Ready or Not, Here I Come
by In The Blink of an Eye
Summary: The year of traps and betrayal, tricks and deceit. The arena of cliffs and sharp edges, hiding places and hidden dangers. The games ruled by an erratic fruitcake of a Gamemaker. And they wonder why the victor went delirious. Welcome to the 51st Annual Hunger Games - the odds will definitely not be in your favour.
1. Let the Tributes Be Chosen

**Hello there - thank you very much for clicking on this link! Have a little read, see if you like it :)**

**Hope you enjoy my story and don't forget to review ideas or constructive critisism!  
**

**Disclaimer: Well, I'm flattered, but no, I'm not Suzanne Collins**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

**Dusk Delusion, Capitol citizen**

The day everyone has been waiting for. The day of the reaping. I turn on the screen which smothers a whole wall and keep my eyes peeled for the next budding victor. Dawn sits down next to me, passing me a bowl of fresh pomegranate seeds.

I look at her gratefully and tuck into the snack. This is our favourite time of year, when footage from the Hunger Games streams into our television constantly. It can be hard to tear ourselves away, the nail-biting action keeping us glued to the screen.

The oldest of our children, Penny, comes in, but the younger children are not allowed to see the Hunger Games until a certain age. There will be plenty of time for that! She snuggles in between us and we expectantly watch the screen as the Capitol Anthem sounds and the 51st Hunger Games is declared officially begun.

**Amber Gilt, District 9 mentor**

Mylo Kingfisher hands me the slip of paper telling me which district I will be escorting. My fingers shake a little. Please not One, not again. A fancy embellished 'nine' is scrawled along the top, along with the names of this year's tributes. Not to bad. All together, another joyful year of death and back-stabbing. I think I shall retire after this.

**D1** – Rye Kuna + Charms Penlum

**D2** – Domitrius Waess + Priya Pendus

**D3** – Kyle 'Animal' Lanyer + Sienna Garcia

**D4** – Anumus Titan + Marella Lamia Cobalt

**D5** – BBT + Bri Graphite

**D6** – BBT + Bronte Pratt

**D7** – 'Lash' Frist + Coraline Rige

**D8** – Aden "Red-Haired" Hanran + Alyssa "Ace" Berg

**D9** – BBT + Emilia Jatos

**D10** – Stag Browning + Natalie Dismal

**D11** – BBT + Jaysper Pavane Grey

**D12** – BBT + BBT

*BBT=Bloodbath Tribute


	2. Building Up to the Moment

**The way that the POVs are going to work, are a sort of random pick. Obviously, as there are no District One tributes yet, we'll start with District Two. Then I'm moving on a random pattern, no particular order. When a character dies, then they will simply be removed from the list and it will carry on. Confusing huh?**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Priya Pendus, District Two**

A dagger protrudes from the stomach of an unfortunate dummy and I remove its head with the sword in my hand. I spin around, stab the dummy behind me, jump and kick it in the chest. It falls onto the mat, imaginary blood gushing from the wound. I smirk and look at my friends.

Mina gives me the nod. She was a victor after all, just three years ago. If she can do it, I can. Stephano observes the damage and pats my arm. "You could win this year – you honestly could."

His pale blue eyes which so similar to mine, seem like a soft oblivion. He chuckles, "that is, if you're still going to volunteer."

I mock punch him on the arm. Obviously I misjudge my strength and he gives me a reproachful frown before walking over to the weapon rack. Here in District Two, out training centres are the bomb. Almost literally. They are stuffed with all kind of weapons, training instructors and mats, so you don't injure yourself to badly. (Not that anyone actually uses them.)

My personal favourites are the swords. They're long and have a great reach, and when you get the balance right, it almost seems like an extension to your arm. Mina won the 48th Hunger Games with a sword. She played down on her talent, only receiving a 6 in training. Then, she stuck to the career pack, living from them like a scavenger. She managed to get her hands on a sword and killed all of the careers in their sleep when they were least expecting it.

I know that I can't use her exact tactics – I'm sure they won't be forgotten until about the 60th Hunger Games – but I can improvise on them. When I volunteer (and I will thankyou Stephano) I will act like a normal career. I will survive as long as possible, make as many kills as possible to get sponsors, then there will most definitely be a showdown in the careers. I will then do the 'Mina' effect and reveal my sword-fighting talent. And voila, the victory is mine.

**'Lash' Frist, District Seven**

"NO! I will not come out of here until you take it back!" I yell. He triggered it. He said he wouldn't trigger it. I won't come out of my den until he says he is sorry.

He said that if I was picked, then I wouldn't last a day. I'll show him. He triggered the syndrome again, he should pay for it.

He calls up the tree. "Lash, get the hell out of that tree and get down here – the Reaping is in one hour!"

But I won't come down. He'll have to chop the tree down before I will. He triggered it, and he said he wouldn't. He triggered the rare syndrome I have which makes me lash out at people. The syndrome was healing, until he opened his big fat mouth.

My mind swims and my vision distorts – it makes it hard to think. I am thinking of a beautiful garden, of my beautiful mother, then a Capitol building.

Then I am back here again. In my tree, my den. And the Reaping is one hour. Why am I up here? I've forgotten. My syndrome makes it hard to think straight. Oh yes, the Hunger Games. I need to get dressed.

As I descend the tree, his features relax into a smile. "I told you Lash, it will be fine. I'm sorry for what I said." He reaches a hand towards me in an attempt to calm me down. It is then when I remember what he said.

I growl and bolt towards my bedroom. I will go to the Hunger Games. I will show him.


	3. Behind Closed Doors

**Good News Mostly:**

**SYOT! SYOT! Submit Your Own Tribute! This is what this is called! I feel kind of thick now, but oh well.**

**We've also reached the 18 tribute mark! The rest are bloodbath tributes, I'm afraid.**

**I really hope the chapter length is long enough, I think it's a tad short, but I'm figuring maybe 4 short POVs for each chapter? Or 2 longer ones? O****h the indescision is killing me. PM or review (the latter?!) what you think, because Yours Truly has no clue. Thanks for reading and everything. :)**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Bronte Pratt, District Six**

No one is looking. I'm on my own here. I slip out my sketch pad and flip to the drawing I've been working on. It shows several people, all standing around, and arms on shoulders, carefree. It's based on a photo I took a while ago. On the coarse paper, five figures are mapped out, with a faint scrawl as to who they are. The tallest are at each end, the smallest in the middle. Zand, Lenz, Tawni, Rhina, and me. I wouldn't call them true friends, but they mean something to me.

As I begin sketching out Zand's pleasant features, I feel the presence of someone behind me. I slam the cover shut and ram the pad under my bed. I spin around angrily. "What the hell are you doing here?!" Shock and embarrassment make me mean and heartless, I know that.

Tawni looks at me surprised. "Um... I was just going to ask when you wanted to sort out the Reaping clothes." She peers at me suspiciously. "Were you drawing? Because, that would be, like, so lame." She flicks her perfect blonde hair.

I laugh; a touch nervously. "No! I was just... finishing some work which I haven't got round to doing yet. Obviously."

Tawni doesn't look convinced, but seeing as half of her mind is fixated on herself and popularity, she dismisses it. I'll have to be more careful in the future if I want to stay at the top of the school food chain.

While I'm thinking, Tawni has already managed to empty half of my wardrobe. She wonders out loud, flinging clothes onto two messy piles. "This? No, it looks so old. If we paired this little number with _this_ we could have something there. And this piece of junk, well Bronte, I'm surprised you haven't already chucked it in the bin."

I don't really mind Tawni's opinion. I don't especially value it, but Dad works for the Capitol. He gets a generous salary, and I get a generous wardrobe of clothes.

I've been trying to distract myself from the thought of the Reaping. Although my chances of getting picked are slim (no tesserea here) the mere thought of the Hunger Games sends a small chill through my spine.

**Aden "Red-Haired" Hanran, District Eight**

I trace circles on Lena's rounded tummy and smile at her. Colin and Adalin are in there, somewhere, just waiting to be released into the world. Not that it's a particularly nice world, full of needless bloodshed and violence. In fact, it would almost be nicer if the two twins stayed in Lena's womb in an eternal embrace. I can feel my train of thought drifting away and tried to stay on Earth.

"Our last Reaping," Lena says tenderly, "then we can settle down, without the worry of the Hunger Games at our throat." Sunlight drifts through the window to settle on her sun kissed blonde hair.

It's a peaceful, beautiful scene, but I can't help forget that we probably can't settle down after this. I am a rebel leader, and I work with rebels every day. We hate what the Capitol does, and we vow to change it. Unfortunately, this life is not peaceful and settled, and possibly never will be. Colin and Adalin will be born into a fragile society, all of the Districts just on the brink of rebellion.

Lena is looking at me - concerned. It then occurs to me that I haven't spoken for several minutes. She smoothes out my clean grey shirt and struggles to stand, her bump obstructing her movements. "Honestly, I'll be glad when these two twins come out!" She jokes and I chuckle lightly. There is only one month left before she is due to give birth. Once this year's game's end, then we can relax a little, work out what to do with the rest of our life together.


	4. Lock it Up

**At the moment, it's going to be harder to update as much, because of my competitive swimming. (It eats up so much of my time!) After Easter, in the holidays, hopefully you can expect an almost daily update. Reviews and PMs are always beneficial to any author, so... :)?**

**Thanks for reading, **

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

**Jaysper Pavane Grey, District Eleven**

My face flushes a dark red.

"Are you saying that I'm depressed?" I say, trying to hide the fact that I'm wounded by Cline's comment.

"No, I'm just saying that sometimes, you kind of zone out." Cline wrings his hands.

"My mother died and my father is never here. What do you expect? It's never happened to you – you wouldn't understand." I'm masking my anger, but really I want to hit him. I know he's my friend and everything, but he just doesn't think about other people's emotions before he speaks out.

"Break it up, guys, break it up." Souter, the peace master of our little gang, also my cousin, raises his hands. My only female friend Muari sits next to him.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit tense because of the Reaping," I apologise.

"I think we all are, a bit. Even if we don't admit it." She looks pointedly at Cline. Muari always seems to understand me.

_Sugar, spice and all thing nice_, I think. On the other hand, we have _slugs, snails and puppy dog's tails_. I would consider myself as a kind of mix. That is if sugar and slugs go together.

**Kyle "Animal" Lanyer, District Three**

"Kyle, we're leaving, so you better get down here!" Michael calls from downstairs. I can hear the door being unlocked and the chains being drawn back. We are a cautious family, but once we trust a person, they are welcomed here.

"Make sure you close your window!" Dad hollers. We haven't always been so wary. But since Mum died, we have been extra alert.

As I pull the window shut, I ponder this year's Hunger Games.

The Reaping – it makes my stomach churn. I want be a tribute so desperately. It's unusual for District Three to be a career district. But I want to volunteer – and I will, unless some person gets in before me. Then, if they don't get killed in the Games and return – I will kill them then. And then I will try next year.

All of the upstairs windows are locked and I race downstairs. I have made an extra effort this year to be smart so that when I walk onto that stage, I will be known as the career from Three – an spectacle in itself.


	5. Beautiful But Broken

**Helllooo, Chapter Five already! Pleased with it so far. Hope you like it too.**

**I have a lovely arena planned for you all. Something interesting and unique, but obviously I cannot reveal any details... You'll have to wait and see!**

**I think the pace of this story is right. I mean, who wants to read 24 different versions of the Reaping all after each other?**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

Emilia Jatos, District

The Peacekeeper ushers me into the sixteen year old section and I stand there for a moment. I am the only sixteen year old at the moment. All of the other girls are probably still bickering over their clothes and what to wear. I push up my glasses.

I have no friends and I like it that way. No one really understands me except from my parents. I lightly brush my finger over the charm bracelet which I wear all the time. It has three small copper charms dangling off it, which clink together when I move. There is a miniature ornate cross, a slender, sleek dove and a bible.

Sometimes they tease me for being so religious, but I just ignore them. What do they know? Nothing except the bubble they are living in. Speak of the devil. Five of the most detestable girls saunter into the cordoned off area. I internally groan.

I would wish them to be Reaped for the games, but that would be to harsh. Their heads barely reach my chin. That is a natural advantage and it makes it so much easier to ignore them. However, at that moment, sixteen year olds start pouring in and just as the five begin make towards me, they get washed away by the crowd.

Thanks everyone, you just indirectly prevented an extra half an hour of torture and teasing.

**Rye Kuna, District One**

I can't see the Peacekeeper's face, but I can tell that he's irritated. "Mr Kuna, will you please enter the fourteen year old boy's area?" His voice is laced with poison. Maybe I've pushed it too far.

I try to press against the furthest corner from the other boys. I'm not comfortable around other people. I'd rather be on my own, or with my sister Pepper. We have been through bad times together, and I would protect her with my life. I was born into a family where "father" was an unknown concept, and "mother" was something who hated you. Ever since her first breath in the world, Pepper has been sick with cancer.

At age eight, my biological mother threw us into the streets to starve. Barric, a friendly baker found us and eventually he, and Wendy, became our adoptive parents. They have one child of their own (Barley) and two other adoptive children called Crusten and Hallah. I only get on with my sister and Barley but I have finally accepted that Wendy and Barric are my parents now.

While I thought about my current situation, the District One escort flounders on the stage. She is a new recruit – I believe her name is Fantasia Delamonté. Her hair balloons out, not far from radioactive candyfloss, and is entwined with ivy. She dithers and prances about, but eventually reaches a conclusion.

She daintily dips her manicured hand into the bowl and withdraws a name.

"Rye Kuna!" She scans the crowd somewhat stressfully. "Rye? Can you hear me?"

My eyes are blank, but behind them, a large process of information is being digested. Why is no one volunteering? This is One for goodness sake, someone volunteer! How will Pepper survive without me? What if she dies?

I direct my line of vision onto a garland of flowers by the steps. I snap a stalk out of the fray and crush the flower head. It can be my token. It represents my life. Beautiful but broken.


	6. A Reason to Live

**Tralala. Le chapter six. Do you like it? We are just over half of the tributes. As much as I like pre-Games stuff, I want to get onto the juicy centre - the arena! I will try to elaborate on the interviews and chariot outfits etcetera but I wouldn't expect 18 versions of it! Maybe 8 or 9, so just one tribute from the District can describe the outfits.**

**Anyways, happy reading!**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

Marella Lamia Cobalt, District Four

Juden points at the male tribute who has just been chosen. "Anumus Titan! He looks kind of fit."

I roll my eyes. Juden finds almost every boy she sees 'fit'. I have to admit, he looks like he has a fighting chance in the Games. Just as I'm wondering whether he'll win, my name echoes over everyone's heads.

Relieved faces turn towards me and people back away. I can hear Juden gulping like a fish. I look at her and she gives me a look so filled with pity that I stride towards the stairs, willing to get out of the Games alive. I take on the steps with a vengeance.

The escort's voice is fuzzy and wavers. I realise that he is asking us to shake hands. I offer my hand limply, gazing over the sea of faces to where I knew my family would be standing. If I was to see them after this, I would have to start planning early.

As we are guided into the Justice Building, the cogs in my mind are whirring and I am already devising a plan. Act weak, pitiful even, and get sympathy and sponsors. I have a good chance, I tell myself, you can swim very well, you are clever and you know how to kill. You could get back home, you know, a little voice speaks in the back of my mind. You could.

**Stag Browning, District Ten**

"Aries Browning!" The escort screeches. My world crumbles a little. I thought we were safe from the Games. We took no tesserae – we shouldn't have been singled out. But now. Aries, my brother. A tribute. Before I even realise what I am putting myself forward for, I stand forward.

"I volunteer."

The Capitol stylized Cougar Vattle stares at me in dismay. His warbling high pitched voice wavers a little as he beckons me onto the stage. "Why a volunteer. What a surprise." He shows no emotion but I can tell he is a bit unnerved by the fact that a Ten has put themselves forward.

As I stand on the stage, I spot Aries. His face is frozen in a mask of horror – his worst fears confirmed. He has stolen and lied to good people; but his brother has had to bear the punishment.

Cougar Vattle tweets and squawks a little and I shake hands with the girl tribute. She is only twelve. I feel sorry for her. Unless she has a hidden talent, she might not make it very long.

We are prodded into the Justice Building like cattle and herded into a room. Almost immediately, all of my biological siblings burst in, as well as some from my foster home. There is Aries, a look of shame on his face; Peregrine, tears streaming; and little Lark. J.D, Amy and Ronnie follow and I could see that they resented my sacrifice. Aries is generally moody and surly – they'd rather he died than me.

I hug them each in turn, telling them that I would come home for them. I would, wouldn't I?

Just when I thought it was over, Mariana came in. Her beautiful eyes were raw and streaming. She shook a little as we shared a kiss. She whispered something in my ear, before being frogmarched out by the Peacekeepers.

I have a reason to live for. Precisely seven reasons to live for.


	7. Judging Your Partners

**Hello again faithful readers. I appreciate your reviews and lovely comments a lot - keep them coming! :)**

**My chapters are going to increase in length once I have finished all of the OC's first POVs. These short chapters are here to give you a little insight on the characters. Pick your favourites etcetera. So expect some nice decently lengthed chapters in, lets see, three more mini chapters. **

**Also, I have the order that the characters are going to be written in. Please note that they are in no particular order and are completely random... (D=district, then number, then G or B=gender)**

**D2G, D7B, D6G, D8B, D11G, D3B, D9G, D1B, D4G, D10B, D5G, D2B, D7G, D3G, D10G, D4B, D1G, D8G**

**Happy Reading**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Bri Graphite, District Five**

"You have purple contacts in your eyes?" The other tribute looks shocked. He is smaller than me – pretty rare – but his attitude is bigger than his height. Throughout the journey to the train, he has been continually asking questions. He is invading my personal space so I shift away from him a little.

Unfortunately, this subtle hint was obviously not picked up on and he began a long string of enquiries. You'd think that he would be a bit more upset to be picked for the Games. He is only twelve.

"Is that pink dye in your hair? Daddy says it's bad to dye your hair. And what's that on your wrist? A watch? Well Daddy got me a ring for a token. It was Mummy's before she left us."

All of a sudden, I feel a huge pang of grief for this boy. He doesn't know, or subconsciously won't accept, what is going to happen to him in less than a week. And I can do nothing to help him.

At this point, I decide to not kill any tribute unless in self defence. I couldn't, especially as Penny and Seplyn, my sisters, would be watching. Screw kills and predicted outcomes. I can survive without that – I can work alone. A fleeting hint of defiance in the arena. No one will be exactly sure of my position except the Gamemakers. I will be there, on the edge out of your peripheral vision.

**Domitrius Waess, District Two**

Two is so large, it takes a while to reach different sections. The journey is tedious and our escort – Marius Passion – is to busy garbling garbage and preening his nails. To pass the time, I look my district partner up and down as we approach the train station.

Her name is Priya. She obviously trains. She volunteered – a big sign of courage and confidence. Yet she is just 14. Fourteen year olds tend to be weaker – she'd slow me down. Can I trust her? She has watchful, sly eyes which make me wonder how trustworthy she is. If I'm going to win these Games, I need to glean everything I can from my opponents.

I have trained for years with my friends and I have a great chance of getting out alive. I haven't seen the Reaping re-runs but I'm sure that I will be one of the most likely to become victor. I need strong allies who are similar to me. Ones who I can trust, but stab in the back at the right time. That is my plan.

The vehicle rolls to a halt outside the station and we step out. Marius has now moved onto back-combing his sickly green moustache with a fine-toothed pearl comb. I roll my eyes. Priya looks at me. I can tell she is sizing me up for battle. I make a mental note to get rid of her the minute we step into the arena. Those pesky fourteen year olds.


	8. Rembering Home

**Great. So I wrote this lovely long intro and it didn't save. And I managed to post Chapter 7 as Chapter 8. Clever.**

**Maybe you can see why I don't want to write another long intro?**

**Thanks for reviews - they really motivate me :)**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Coraline Rige, District Seven**

When I am sure that the boy isn't looking, I nudge Monty's head out of my pocket. He is the only thing I have to remind me of home. Already, the rich, expensive interior of the train is making me dizzy. Along with the constant muttering of my district partner.

My father is a woodcutter who earns a minimum wage and Mum carves furniture. Sometimes, I help out by carving wooden animals. Monty is a sheep dog, which I carved two years ago. Although simply shaped, the detail is intricate. Dad says I could take over mum's business when I'm old enough. I'm not sure I want to.

Monty has a special place on my bedside table. He sits next to my raspberry scented candle which I got for my 12th birthday and the red ribbon which Nan gave me. These memories bring a sharp pang of grief and I quickly brush a tear away before anyone notices.

I shouldn't have been chosen. My name was in there once. The odds were next to impossible, but still, the ditzy escort screeched out my name. Seven never has volunteers. From that point on, I knew that I was doomed to a violent death, far from my parents, and far from home.

**Sienna Garcia, District Three**

The table is virtually groaning under the weight of food. Tiers of vibrant fruits are stacked perfectly. Bowls of salad are neighbours with totem poles of fresh vegetables. Soft, fluffy bread is placed delicately next to tureens of aromatic soup and the table gives off a luxurious scent of rich and expensive delicacies.

It is all rather much. I'd rather be at home with Alyssa, my little sister. Right now, we'd be celebrating that we hadn't been chosen with a simple yet delicious home-cooked meal. The TV that flickers every now and then would be constantly reeling footage of the day's Reapings. We could be in bed, dreaming freely, now that we knew we were safe for at least another year.

Through the floor, we'd be able to hear Mum singing, intertwined with Dad's lower pitched rumble. It would be punctuated with bouts of laughter and we knew that even in our messed up world, we were happy and safe for the time being.

Not anymore. As I sit down at the table and numbly drop some random food onto my plate, I think to what the house would be like, now that I am gone.

The shutters would be drawn. Mum's forehead would be wrinkled in stress and Dad would be staring into the fire. They would have forgotten about Alyssa's bedtime and she'd be there, clutching onto Mum's waist. Without me, Mum might not remember what a twelve year old child needs to survive. Food, attention, sleep.

And me of course, by that time, I'd probably be dead, killed in the Bloodbath.


	9. The Outside World

**Here we are. One more chapter until (drumroll...) Long Chapters! Yay!**

**Hope you like it so far - don't forget to leave reviews or PM's - like I ALWAYS say, they mean a lot to me!**

**Cheers,**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Natalie Dismal, District Ten**

Districts pass by, the houses and fences blurring. They get bigger and more elaborate the further we travel. The train makes no noise, a sleek bullet rocketing through the countryside.

My District partner is looking solemn at the moment, but he is a true gentleman. A while ago, when a tear or two leaked from my eye, he offered me a clean, pressed handkerchief with the initials 'SB' embroidered on the corner. I felt furious that I had shown a weakness and hoped that a stray camera hadn't documented it with it's steel glass eye.

All I can think about is the arena. Will it be full of water? I hope not. I can't swim and never will, unless I get out of these Games alive. My strength is running and eyesight. I could see a pin on the floor from the top of a medium sized tree, providing there were no leaves in the way. When I was younger, there was a choice of taking a Running Master class or a Swimming Master class. I chose the running, but could that choice have doomed me to my death?

I'd quite like an ally. Maybe my District partner. However, as I ponder on this, I realise that maybe Stag has been buttering me up. Act nice to the twelve year old, get her to trust you. Then the minute you enter the arena, spear her in the chest. You can never be too cautious, Mum says.

**Anumus Titan, District Four**

I like looking at Marella. She has these deep blue eyes which look like the bottom of the ocean. Her hair flows down her back, a wave of blackness, punctuated with blue streaks. I can see she's working out her tactics in a notebook. Probably working out the best way to kill me.

I smile, stretch back and place my feet upon the luxurious foot rest. Marella glances up at me briefly before looking back at her page. She blushes a little in my presence and fumbles a bit with her pen. I have that effect on people – I can't help it.

I should probably start thinking up some tactics. But isn't that what our mentors are there for? This train is inexplicitly dull. I'm pretty sure that we should be reaching the Capitol soon. Then I can start making a good impression and soon the Capitol ladies will be falling over themselves to send me gifts.

The outside world dims and we are inside a tunnel. The immense power of the rock fascinates me, but I'd rather be in open air, practising with my trident or fishing with Dad and Oceanus. For a moment, I wonder if we are coming out, but then, the sky reappears and the Capitol looms over us.

Everyone has seen the Capitol on TV. Everyone knows what it looks like, but this, this is indescribable. It makes District One look like the remains of Thirteen. I laugh and feel grateful that I can at least spend the possible last seven days here, in complete luxury.


	10. A Beautiful Place to Be

**Sound the trumpets! Last mini chapter! Hope you've gathered your favourite tributes so far. **

**The next chapter is going to be Priya Pendus, (District Two). If I interrupt the rotation with a Gamemaker or Capitol citizen POV, it will carry on as normal. **

**Happy Reading, hope you liked this chapter and don't forget to review :)**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

Charms Penlum, District One

The intense beauty of the Capitol has literally taken my breath away. Even the sullen Rye Kuna's eyebrows lifted before hooding themselves back in place. What a lovely life you'd have if you lived here. Far from the poverty of District Twelve and the ugly factories of Eight and Three.

Our train soars into the heart of the city and almost immediately, we are greeted by thousands of roaring fans. A splash of orange lipstick there, a turquoise wig here, the crows are bursting with colours that I didn't know even existed. One being a career district, we need to show our skill and potential to start gaining sponsors even now.

The only thing which taints this luxury is the Games themselves. I can wield a knife, sure. But killing people. That's a no. Dad forced me to cold-heartedly kill a starving beggar on the streets when I was beginning to train. Even now, six years later, I can still remember the pleading eyes, the spilled blood and Dad slapping my back, congratulating me on my first kill.

It was him who made me volunteer. "You're eighteen, Charm. You're at the height of your abilities. Give it a try!" I can remember him saying. There wasn't really another option. I'd rather face the Games than his anger if I hadn't followed his orders.

**Alyssa "Ace" Berg, District Eight**

Aden Hanran and I stand by the window, waving at the flamboyantly dressed Capitol citizens. These are the people who will be watching our every action in the arena. The ones who will cry when their favourite dies. The ones who will gather their jewels in order to send us gifts when we need them. It's sick really. Completely sadistic what the Capitol does for entertainment.

I will kill for my district. I will look someone in the eye while life drains out of them, if it means I can go home. Eight hasn't had a victor for a while and I think that I'm just what they need.

Our escort, Verity Folderm, shakes me out of my thoughts and explains the procedure in a clipped accent. I stifle the urge to giggle at her musical tones. We will be styled and remade so that we are perfect and flawless for the audience first. Then we will ride a horse-drawn chariot through the City Circle in the Opening Ceremonies. The chariot will take us to the Training Centre where we will be spending the rest of our Capitol holidays.

When she has finished explaining the timetable we exit the train and make towards the remake centre. I just hope we don't get that stylist who thought it would be a great idea to have us wearing nothing but a cravat and a head scarf.


	11. My Little Syrup Pot

**Let the long chapter begin! Hope you like my lovely little prep team and my slightly irritating stylist!**

**Happy reading :)**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

Priya Pendus, District Two

It feels as if three little peacocks are dancing around my bed. Iovita, the one with purple eyebrows and auburn hair. Laelia, the one brandishing scissors and vicious tweezers. And Nero, the one who has unhealthily long nails for a young man.

They can't stop tweeting and clucking on about parties and celebrations which they have been invited to. The feathers, the gems and fake animal fur coats. Scandals between one Capitol chick and the other. The disgrace caused by the new chocolate fountain in the hairdresser's lobby.

I'd go to sleep if it weren't for the regular waves of pain as hair is ripped from my legs. "It won't hurt a bit," they reassured me. Really.

I feel somewhat defenceless, like a plucked chicken ready to be roasted in the oven and served on a platter. That is somewhat like what will be happening next. We are the Masonry district with interwoven hints of Ancient Roman. And our stylist is known for his extravagant, if slightly deranged, outfits. Two years ago, he clothed the tributes in the extreme bare minimum and made them clutch shields and swords. We were the laughing stock of the Games that year.

When the prep team finish their work, they observe me in detail, tweaking a little bit here and there. Then they leave. As if he has been summoned by an undetectable communication device, my stylist sweeps in, leaving a trail of gold glitter in his wake. I internally groan.

"Good day, honey fluff!" He squeaks. "I am Cassius. You look mighty fine in all your glory!Festina lente!" I can literally hear the exclamation marks. I raise one eyebrow.

"Of course, my dear syrup pot, you haven't been taught in the ways of Latin. 'Festina lente' means let us plan carefully, even in great haste. What do you think?" He preens his droopy fringe.

"I think it'd be best if you didn't give me pathetic pet names like syrup pot." My voice is laced with poison. Even Cassius falters for a second. Tragically, a second and no more.

"Sure thing, pretty petal. Now, this year, I was thinking of a sort of Artemis look. You know? The goddess of hunting. I thought it would fit in just right with the spirit of the Games. She is so often shown as a huntress with a bow and arrow – perfecto!"

"My weapon is the sword," I add, "just to clear any previous assumptions."

"Oh," Cassius says, rather dreamily, "you are so like Mina, in both demeanour and stature."

"Rather long words for you, huh?" I ask sarcastically.

"Anyhoo!" Cassius changes the subject as quickly as I might blink an eye. "Your District partner, Domitrius, I think it is, he will dress as Apollo, who by the way, is Artemis' twin."

He produces a large sketchpad showing the outfits we will be wearing. I am relieved to see that they are will cover a decent amount of my body. My outfit is a flowing, silvery dress, with an olive headpiece to match. The model on the page is holding an artistically beautiful masterpiece of a bow. I notice there are no arrows. Wouldn't want the Two girl to be killing tributes before the arena, would we?

Domitrius will be wearing an outfit which looks rather like the sun. In fact, when I look at both of the drawings together, it looks like the sun and the moon. The male sketch has a flickering cape, inlaid with jewels which will reflect the spotlights. He also will have an olive headpiece and will hold a lyre.

I have to congratulate Cassius on his imagination, even so. This year, we will stand out from the rest.


	12. The Audience's Cacophony

**Hello there, lovely readers. **

**I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while. It's the holidays and England has finally decided to move its butt and become sunny! :)**

**We reached 1000 views the other day - I was so pleased! I don't know if that is a good figure or not, but 1000 is a nice big number. I also tweaked the description. The old one sounded good when I wrote it but now it sounds much better! I mean, who wants a limp one-sentence description?**

**I actually quite enjoy writing from Lash's POV. He is disjointed and slightly nuts but he is really fun to write. Weird, huh?**

**Thankyou!,**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Lash Frist, District Seven**

I giggle manically. I am going to the Games! I get a few funny looks from other tributes as we stand next to our chariots. Who cares. I'm alive and kicking.

The man who wanted to dress me in a sticky sap costume has gone now. Probably dabbing makeup on his bruised cheek where I hit him. I didn't mean to. Hit him, I mean. His voice was drilling a hole into my ear and next thing I knew, he was yelling at me and clutching his cheek bone.

The little girl from my District has a wooden dog. She thinks I don't see it. She fleetingly glances at me and when she is sure that I am not looking, she nudges the head out of her pocket. I'm nothing to be scared of. Sure, I accidently hit the funnily-dressed man, but apart from that, I'm quite nice. Mostly.

I can hear whispering. All of a sudden, I wish I hadn't volunteered. But the feeling is like wind and is gone in a second. It's the girl from Eight. She is on tiptoes, hushing silent words into her partners ear. He looks like a nice person. But he seems pained, like the words are hurting him from the inside. Little daggers penetrating his eardrum. Like the one that penetrated my mother. Blood. Crimson rivers. Screaming. Wailing.

Don't think of that. You are going to show the audience that you are going to be a contender. A ruthless machine. Isolated and entirely self-sufficient. That's Lash, they'd say, he'll win for sure. I climb onto my chariot. The pitiful leaves from my suit trail on the ground. At least it's not sticky sludge.

The first chariot is out in the open. Followed by one more, and another. Soon, we are moving. I am momentarily confused. I will myself not to break down. You are at the Games, I tell myself. You are at the Games. The girl shrinks away from me. I realise I am panting. I stop.

Screaming. Wolf-whistling. Blood. Cheering. Wailing. Hooting. All the sounds from my mother's death merge with the audience's cacophony.

I find myself on the bottom of the chariot. The horses are snorting, sensing danger. Huffing. Glazed eyes. I don't understand. I never get this emotional over Mother's death. What is wrong with me? All cameras are trained on me and me alone. Forget the others. Check out this lunatic.

I'll never get over this in the Games. Stand up, Lash. Ignore the audience and the stares. Be strong. Show them who you are. Show them that you won't be beaten by a mental illness. That's it. Glare at them. You _will not _be beaten.

That is when the world sways and spins. Images flash behind my eyes, blocking out real life. A flash of my house there, a spark from the outfits from Two. They are beautiful. Really beautiful. They will be the favourites. And him. Dad. The one who came back when Mother died. The one who said I'd never survive. Then black. And nothing else.


	13. REQUIRED VIEWING IMPORTANT NOTICE

**"Tributes, you will need reviews to stay alive. Disregarding the obliged acknowledgement will result in certain death."**

**Basically, if you have submitted an OC, then you need to review to keep them alive. An idea posed by JustAWriter67. **

**Thanks '-'**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

**...**

**Avery Glutton, Gamemaker**

My fingers niftily swipe, scan and dap the screen in front of me. I control the cameras. There are five different cameras online at the moments. The chariots are gathered in the centre of the City Circle. I take a shot with a birds eye view and the second that Ami, next to me, announces in Snow's earpiece that we are ready, I change the Position to a close up.

I don't listen to what President Snow actually says; I am far to busy controlling the camera angles. A tweak here, a tweak there. The part that made my day was the Seven boy passing out. Unfortunately, medics swooped in before I could get a good shot, but I hope the watchers will appreciate my best efforts.

As I am speedily adjusting the angle of Camera One, one of Snow's sentences sticks in my head for some reason. It echoes and repeats, fluxes and rotates. It is unusual but I dismiss it almost immediately.

"Tributes, you will need reviews to stay alive. Disregarding the obliged acknowledgement will result in certain death."


	14. A Confusion of Aims

**I think it's safe to call this a very questioning chapter. You may remember Penny from Chapter One.**

**Thanks for your reviews! I think I got you all moving :)**

**Enjoy and don't forget to leave some comments on what you think,**

***WentToTheMoonToday**

...

Penny Delusion, Capitol citizen

I don't like this. This is my first year watching the Hunger Games, and I don't like it. I have been waiting for this year ever since I learnt what the Hunger Games was. But it's sick.

Why do I find this sick and no others? It's like prettying up a pig for slaughter. The only vegetarian in my family, I am considered to be silly and unreliable, plainly because I'm opposed to eating animals. Does no one see what the Capitol are doing?

I can't exactly change what they are doing; I'm only fourteen. But surely, President Snow has just a speck of morality? Doesn't he think this has been going on for a bit long? The bit that made me realise this was when the Seven boy passed out. All we could see were the cameras trying to nudge in and get a good shot. Who cares if he dies or if he's seriously ill? As long as we get a good shot.

I can tell that my family don't share my views. Dad is drooling over the screen next to me and Mum keeps popping into the kitchen to get snacks for us to gorge on. Why am I different? I was born into the Capitol – surely I should be a duplicate of the next person?

Snow's pathetic speech makes me think about what we are doing to ourselves. These people couldn't help that they were born into a District, but all the same, they are treated as rebels for something their ancestors did. Snow's droning voice cuts out and finally, the Opening Ceremony is over.

The chariots file out of the City Circle and just then, my little sister Andria starts an orchestra of wailing upstairs. Before Mum or Dad can blink, I bound up and volunteer to settle her. Mum looks surprised but she waves me away.

I take on the stairs as I try to work out my tangled feelings. There must be some one else like me. Someone who thinks that the Hunger Games have reached their expiry date. I enter Andria's room. She has pushed her teddy out of her cot and tears are streaming down her chubby face. I murmur to her quietly and tuck her teddy next to her.

The wailing stops almost immediately. She jams her thumb in her mouth as stray hiccups wrack her little body.

"What do you think about the Hunger Games, Andria? Would you like to propose a solution to the question that plagues my mind?" She looks up at me curiously.

"A perfection of means, and confusion of aims, seems to be our main problem." The quote was in a book I read at school recently – it's dated before even the Dark Days.

Andria has lost interest and her eyes rapidly blink before gently nodding off to sleep.


	15. Who Will Still be Alive?

**Hi Guys!**

**I'm sorry it took so long to update! I wrote out all the scores and all, but realised it was virtually unreadable. So I did it again and it took me a lot longer than I expected.**

**Next chapter is going to be great, nice and long, and it's going to be about the arena, from the Head Game maker's perspective.**

**I also changed my username and profile picture so you might find it tricky to recognise me at first.**

**Thanks to all reviewers!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

...

Avery Glutton, Gamemaker

The next two days flash by. People's faces come and go, and I know that ultimately, only one of those faces will be flush with life in two weeks. Scores brighten the screen and interview dress spin this way and that. The Head Gamemaker, Mylo Kingfisher sets me a challenge in amongst the chaos.

"Compose a list for every tribute. I want their name, district, age, training score and predicted survival score out of 100." I huff qiuetly. Although Mylo is a new recruit, he has fanciful ideas and odd traditions, and a hot temper.

I curl my hand around my digi-pen and begin to scribe out the arduous letters.

From District One is Rye Kuna. He is 14 and his training score is 9. His predicted score is 76%.

From District One is Charms Penlum. She is 18 and her training score is 7. Her predicted score is 68%.

From District Two is Domitrius Waess. He is 17 and his training score is 11. His predicted score is 81%.

From District Two is Priya Pendus. She is 14 and her training score is 11. Her predicted score is 80%.

From District Three is Kyle 'Animal' Lanyer. He is 15 and his training score is 8. His predicted score is 68%.

From District Three is Sienna Garcia. She is 15 and her training score is 7. Her predicted score is 54%.

From District Four is Anumus Titan. He is 17 and his training score is 10. His predicted score is 78%.

From District Four is Marella Lamia Cobalt. She is 17 and her training score is 10. Her predicted score is 79%.

From District Five is Dirk Vermont. He is 12 and his training score is 3. His predicted score is 4%.

From District Five is Bri Graphite. She is 16 and her training score is 5. Her predicted score is 33%.

From District Six is Mark Zukerburg. He is 13 and his training score is 4. His predicted score is 12%.

From District Six is Bronte Pratt. She is 17 and her training score is 10. Her predicted score is 74%.

From District Seven is Lash Frist. He is 14 and his training score is 9. His predicted score is 52%

From District Seven is Coraline Rige. She is 12 and her training score is 5. Her predicted score is 19%

From District Eight is Aden 'Red Haired' Hanran. He is 18 and his training score is 8. His predicted score is 67%

From District Eight is Alyssa 'Ace' Berg. She is 15 and her training score is 7. Her predicted score is 46%

From District Nine is Dann Lee. He is 17 and his training score is 6. His predicted score is 28%

From District Nine is Emilia Jatos. She is 16 and her training score is 5. Her predicted score is 34%

From District Ten is Stag Browning. He is 17 and his training score is 6. His predicted score is 41%

From District Ten is Natalie Dismal. She is 12 and her training score is 7. Her predicted score is 40%

From District Eleven is Husk Hatchet. He is 13 and his training score is 2. His predicted score is 6%

From District Eleven is Jaysper Pavane Grey. She is 16 and her training score is 6. Her predicted score is 39%

From District Twelve is Leo O'Rourke. He is 18 and his training score is 3. His predicted score is 14%

From District Twelve is Bernadette Decoy. She is 16 and her training score is 4. Her predicted score is 19%


	16. Let My Games Begin

**Hey guys! This is the chapter which I had most fun writing!  
**

**Here is the link to the deviantART page with a picture of the arena -wenttothemoontoday dot deviantart dot com forward slash art forward slash The-51st-Hunger-Games-Arena-368131658?ga_submit_ne w=10%253A1367059138**

**Please replace the words with the actual punctuation because fanfiction doesn't like links AT ALL! ;)**

**Thankyou very much for all **y**our reviews - I'm really glad you are pleased with your tribute's score and how I've written them.**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

**...**

**Mylo Kingfisher, Head Gamemaker**

It is complete. The final touches of the arena have been polished, checked and rechecked. The result is an arena which will cling to the minds of people for years to come. And it's mine.

Blood will be spilled, daggers thrown, arrows aimed. But ultimately, the ones who decide the tribute's fate are us, the Gamemaker

The tributes will rise into a small oval. The first thing they'll notice will be the mountain towering over them. The second will be the rapids. They will immediately write off the rapids as an escape route unless they are very mentally challenged. The frothing waters block a large portion of potential escape routes – the only other routes are to climb the mountain or to scramble over the mountainous rocks bordering the oval.

When the gong sounds, approximately two thirds of all the tributes will dash towards the brimming Cornucopia. They will soon find out that instead of food, weapons and other necessities, all there is, is wood, string and rocks. Some of the more intelligent ones will find a way to salvage the materials to make traps of various sorts. Others who didn't bother with the knot and trap section in training will be lost with the rubbish and shortly killed.

This will leave about half of the tributes left. Some will dash up the mountain side in pure panic and others will try to defeat the rocks. Lucky tributes will find the caves first.

The way that I have designed the way in which a tribute may obtain food and weapons is this: there are twenty-four packs situated around the arena. There are three different types, ranging from a small red pack with several crackers, a flask and a penknife, to a huge three sectioned camouflage pack equipped with all you need to survive. There are twelve small packs, eight medium packs and four lucky super packs.

The harder it is to find the pack, the better your reward will be. The simple packs will be almost in plain sight. The mediums will be behind or under natural recesses and bulges and the super packs will be 'outside of the box'.

A few extra parts to the arena which I commissioned myself include an underwater grotto. The rapids eventually feed into a calm lake, and it is here where you will find it. It is not so far down that it is unreachable; however a keen diver is most likely to find it. Here, one of the super packs will be found.

One other 'out of the box' brainwave I had was that the arena ends sharply in a precipice. Instead of having a force field that led Haymitch Abernathy to his victory last year, there will be a steep path which will lead down to a cave. Many tributes either will not find it, or will be too scared to attempt to scale the path. A super pack is placed there for a lucky tribute.

In the arena, there will be limited vegetation, therefore encouraging tributes to search for their packs. There are many nooks and crannies, hidden caves and visible caves. All may easily house one tribute. This would however be too simple.

I have introduced a new mutt which seems to be a cross between and snake, a lizard and a crab. Eyeless, it prowls the caves using only sense of smell to navigate. It can kill by contact, as its skin is coated in a deadly poison which can kill in minutes. These creatures cannot be eaten but can be killed by piercing between the plates of shell on its underside.

Let my Games begin.


	17. The Clock is Ticking

**Hey readers!**

**Sorry I haven't updated for a while! I had a lot of stuff happening this week. I hope you like this chapter - just to clarify, Belladie Curter and her little rebel group are a little subplot which I've introduced. Obviously as this SYOT takes place before the 74th Hunger Games, then they won't be successful, but hey, they tried.**

**Thanks,**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

**...**

**Belladie Curter, Capitol Citizen**

The aerial shots of the new arena don't give much away. They have carefully planned it so that all of us will have to tune in at the start. Even those who hate the Games. Like us.

We are a small group of five. We call ourselves 'Pentagonal' and we are rebels. We know that Capitol citizen's aren't allowed these views, but we hold them anyway. This year is the year we strike. We will bring down the President and his sadistic Games.

The clock is ticking. "Shots of the nest," I sign to Hindosa, who is sat next to me. He is deaf but we have devised our own sign language which no one else could pick up. He nods and signs back. "We are going to strike when the gong goes off?" I confirm this to him.

I haven't seen my second-in-command, Heriss, for a few days and she hasn't replied to my constant messages and voicemails. I think something is up, but seeing as the Games start in just over a day, we'll have to do it without her. I hope the Peacemakers haven't caught wind of our plan. They shouldn't have.

When the gong sounds and marks the beginning of a new year of needless bloodshed, we will strike, and we will make an imprint which will take down the Capitol for ever.

The clock is ticking.

**Bronte Pratt, District Six**

Butterflies. My stomach churns and my mouth is dry. It is the last night before the Games. How could I even think of sleeping? This could be my last night alive.

The only thing to console me is the gentle curves and rough outlines of art. I don't know where my pencil is taking me. My mind is in another place. But when I finally look down at my sketchbook, I gasp in dismay.

The outline is clearly me. The long flowing hair, and the angled eyes. Sharp nose and tanned skin. It is hauntingly similar, except the most obvious variation.

I am lying on the ground by the Cornucopia with a knife in my chest.


	18. Strike When the Oven is Hot

**Well I hope that was dramatic enough for you readers! Oh I do love a cliff hanger.**

**You may know that I have been posting pictures of your tributes on deviantART, so if you want to have a look, my username is WentToTheMoonToday, or just use the link in my last chapter to find me. If you want a picture of your tribute, just send me the name of someone who looks similar to how you imagined them, and I will edit it :)**

**Hope you enjoy this,**

**In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Mylo Kingfisher, Head Gamemaker**

I almost jump up and clap with delight. Five hours until my arena is used for the first time. The tributes will be boarding the hovercraft. I force myself to remain calm. I am, of course, the Head Gamemaker, and one of such authority must not be showing childish symptoms.

**Belladie Curter, Capitol Citizen**

Heriss' number flashes onto the screen of my wrist phone. The incoming call alert pops up and I impatiently tap it open, an irritable comment in my mouth.

But it isn't Heriss' voice that greets me but a clear, cold, computer simulated voice which strikes fear into my heart.

"We know you and your little friends and what you are up to." The voice pauses. "And we have Heriss here. Just to let you know the consequences of your future actions, I would like to leave you with a little comment from your fellow rebel."

What follows is a piercing scream which I immediately identify as Heriss'. Then the screen goes black. I fumble with the buttons like it would work. But the internal circuit has failed and I am left with a thrashing heart and a mind full of doubt.

**Mylo Kingfisher, Head Gamemaker**

One hour. They will shortly be landing and branching off to their separate launch rooms.

Half an hour. They have landed.

Twenty minutes. They are introduced to their launch room.

**Belladie Curter, Capitol Citizen**

We are in position outside the President's mansion. All five of us, excluding Heriss. I thought it would be better not to think of her until afterwards. She is a small sacrifice to the greater good. We have to go through with this.

The stopwatch on Hindosa's wrist is blinking away. At precisely one minute before the Games begin, we will throw the detonator into the grounds as a distraction and cover. Then we will use specially designed state-of-the-art protection to saw through the President's electric fence.

The milliseconds are excruciatingly slow.

**Mylo Kingfisher**

Ten minutes. The time they have to say goodbye to their stylist.

Five minutes. Parched throats and light headedness.

Three minutes. Some will cry, some not. But all are ushered into the cylinder.

Two minutes. They enter the arena.

One minute. The countdown begins.

Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven.

**Belladie Curter, Capitol Citizen**

It is time. My rebel group exchange silent nods and I launch the detonator high and clear into the grounds where it bounces once and settles on the grass.

We have to be ready. We have ten seconds before it explodes, creating a smoke screen and a small fire. Then we will be ready.

**The Arena**

Twenty-four tributes stand in an oval. In less than fifteen minutes, seven of them will be dead.

And as the clock drops to zero, in all different parts of Panem, a detonator explodes, a Head Gamemaker cheers, a mother throws herself off a bridge and the cork shoots out of a champagne bottle.


	19. Seven Down

**Hey there!**

**I decided to write an extra long-ish chapter for you, seeing as I haven't been very constant with my updating recently! I hope you enjoy it - there is a bit of gore, but not much. **

**I somehow want to compact everyone's experience into one chapter but I can't fit it in. Just so you know, I know exactly where your tributes are, and what they have salvaged from the arena so far! It's this lovely great big list with about 60 keys, but hey ho. **

**Voila!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Aden "Red-Haired" Hanran, District Eight**

The gong resonates through my ears and before I can remember what my mentor told me to do, I am speeding towards the Cornucopia. But when I get there, a horrific sight meets my eyes. There is evidently nothing of use. String, wood and rocks. Pathetic.

I make a split descision to bolt for it. Good timing too, because as I peek over my shoulder, I see a girl's head being bludgeoned in by a rock. That could have been me.

Seeing as the rapids are obviously impassable and the mountain is too obvious, the rocks bordering the clearing seem the safest option. Soon I am taking on the rocks, dodging boulders and leaping over pebbles and natural crevasses. No one is following me yet, and in a few minutes of running, the sounds of screaming and fighting have vanished. I slow to a constant jog and begin looking for somewhere to hide.

It's not too far along the crooked route I am following, when I see a medium sized pack. It has been cleverly designed to make it look like an extension to the craggy landscape, but my sharp eyes have picked it out. I am careful when opening it. It could be some cruel trick of the Gamemakers, and actually be containing some type of triggered death trap.

But to my joy, it contains a full water bottle, a pack of dry food and a knife. On closer inspection, I find a raincoat, a tightly packed sleeping bag and some rope with hooks attached. 'This is good,' I think. It is at that moment when I hear footsteps grinding furiously towards me. I don't hesitate. I take off, trying desperately to keep my footing.

**Dann Lee, District Nine**

The oversized timer ticks to zero and the gong sounds our deaths. I leap off the raised circle and sprint to the Cornucopia. I am a good runner – that's what got me a training score of 6 – but my hand-to-hand combat is appalling, as well as everything else I might need to defend myself.

I am the first at the golden horn, but the only thing there is flimsy materials. Dismayed, I flounder for a second, costing me valuable escape time. The Four boy has reached the Cornucopia now, and he doesn't waste a second. He swoops up a rock and smashes it onto the Twelve girl's head. She crumples and blood oozes from a dent in her skull.

My limbs aren't working. What is happening to me? I need to move!

Four boy turns to me. As if in slow motion, his face curves into a smile and he smashes the still bloody rock onto my head, the same time a wooden stake erupts through my chest.

**Jaysper Pavane Grey, District Eleven**

I'm not the best runner in the world, but as the faster ones reach the Cornucopia, I see that they are dismayed at the worthless provisions. At a safe distance, I see that the Four boy kills the Twelve girl with a rock and turns on the Nine boy. At the same time, the Two girl makes use of some sharp wood and plunges it into the poor boy. If those are the only weapons available, I'm out of here.

I use my split second judgement and turn back. The mountain. Unexplored territories but less dangerous than the compacted rocks surrounding us. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my District partner chasing after me, an expression of pure fear on his face. I can see why, as I start speedily climbing the angled slope.

The Two boy has managed to salvage a sharp slab of rock and is brandishing it like a spear. His long legs easily catch up with the pitiful 13 year old. He goes down with a whimper and I take advantage of his sadistic demise and pour adrenaline into my run.

* * *

**The Fallen:**

(_Italic names _name the killer if necessary)

**Dirk Vermont**, District Five Boy [Cause of death: Bleeding on brain-_Anumus Titan_]

**Bri Graphite**, District Five Girl [Cause of death: Suffocation-_Rye Kuna_]

**Mark Zukerburg**, District Six Boy [Cause of death: Stab wound-_Domitrius Waess_]

**Dann Lee**, District Nine Boy [Cause of death: Stab wound + brain damage-_Anumus Titan + Priya Pendus_]

**Husk Hatchet**, District Eleven Boy [Cause of death: Stab wound-_Domitrius Waess_]

**Leo O'Rourke**, District Twelve Boy [Cause of death: Strangled-_Priya Pendus_]

**Bernadette Decoy**, District Twelve Girl [Cause of death: Concussion + brain damage-_Anumus Titan_]


	20. Risk Takers, Descision Makers

**Hey readers,**

**Thanks for sticking with me this far - we've reached a 20 chapter milestone! 3**

**I'm sorry for not updating as often as before, but hey - HOLIDAYS ARE COMING UP! And you know what that means... Very consistent updates!**

**Don't forget to review, and I hope you like this chapter!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Kyle "Animal" Lanyer, District Three**

The fighting has stopped. The remaining careers have disappeared through the rocks on the other side of the clearing and I can hear their irritating chatter.

I know that now is a perfect time to emerge from behind the shady overhang and head for the rapids. They are obviously unable to cross, but I have a plan. The rapids cut off a large section of land which no one else will be able to follow. It will provide the perfect plot of isolated land which I can freely stay on until the last people are left.

The Career's conversation has reached a new height. Actually, I think there are only three of them. Priya, Anumus and Domitrius. It's a funny year for Careers, I think, as I slink towards the rapids. Half of them have gone AWOL.

I have never been great at swimming, but if I find a slightly narrower part of the frothy waters, I might be able to use my height to an advantage. After about five minutes, I realise that my attempts are futile. The rapids are just as violent, and the river is just as wide, like it had been designed. Well, it had.

I need to get across. There is no other place which I can think of which would provide the perfect hiding place. Maybe there might be a lake or something further down? I can't risk looking further. The Careers could burst out at any second and I would be toast.

Finally, I find a raised heap of mud. The height will help and the practical outfit I am wearing, close fitting beige trousers and a jacket that adapts to the heat, will make it a little easier to cross. I must be mad. I bend my knees, breathe deeply and spring forward.

I hit the water with a splash, but the churning water masks the sound. The water is chilly, but not freezing. Already, I can feel some of my energy being sapped away from the cold water and the waves are cascading around me. Immediately, I find myself being tugged by the relentless current.

I power on towards the other side. I can see the scenery swooping by and I feel dizzy. My swimming falters and the river pushes me down. I gulp for air.

Just as I am about to give up, I see an overhanging branch zooming up to me. I reach up just in time and manage to get a stable hand onto the wood. I haul myself up onto the rocky bank and cough up water. I am shaking and my chest feels tight. I need to find a hiding place, but I'm not sure that I have the energy.

The water has drained my spirit and I am shivering violently. The water wasn't deathly freezing, yet here I am, chilled to the marrow. I wriggle towards the nearest rocks. Breath wheezes out of my lungs and black spots dance over my vision. So close. If you can just make it... over there...

**Emilia Jatos, District Nine**

Thank goodness they let me have my bracelet. I think that without it, I would be having a breakdown. I rub the dove charm decisively. When the gong went about two hours ago, I immediately pounded towards the river. I'm a strong swimmer and I usually feel safer around water sources.

I am further ahead of the others who went to the Cornucopia, as I ran until I was gasping and couldn't breathe. I don't think that my sacrificing potential survival items was a rash descision. Although I am tragic at making decisions and I couldn't direct you to the nearest tree, I am confident that God will guide me and keep me safe from other tributes.

The rapids have not narrowed out or decreased in power, but ahead of me, I can see a pearly, crystalline lake which I know will be perfect. Just adding the icing on top of the cake, I can see a pack-like shape which suggests supplies. It's small, but as I reach it, I dig in with delight. An empty water bottle – but paired with iodine, a length of rope, and packet of biscuits. And, the item which I need most – a long sharp knife.

I almost scream my thanks to God, but I know that I would be pinpointing myself as a target. If I have a knife, then I can do almost anything. However, I should find a place to camp. Being out in the open is just begging for trouble, but I fill up my bottle from the shallows of the gently evening rapids, to purify and drink.


	21. Discoveries, Revelations

**Holidays! Boy, I love them :D**

**I've been wanting to explore Marella's little underwater hideout for a while, so I hope you enjoy. (Oh, and before you think Rye killed the little beast, it might not be as dead as you think. More on that later!)**

**Happy Holidays 3**

**In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Rye Kuna, District One**

I found the pack in the cave which I currently residing in, and it's sort of a medium size. I have already looked through the contents twice. I am having an argument inside my head. All I can see my victim's eyes, widened and glazing as the life dribbled from her mouth. 'It was in self defence!' I contradict myself. But I know that it wasn't. I intended to wrap the rope around her neck and tighten it until her lips went blue. I intended to kill her.

Not that I am weak and limp. I am pretty tough skinned, but what kind of person would kill and not think anything of their victim?

I divert my train of thought onto the pack. It was like they knew I was coming – those clever Gamemakers. They were so thoughtful; they managed to place a beautiful machete inside my pack. Although it looks like they forgot water. Thanks for the bottle anyway.

I pull open the top of the crackers. Only one, I wheedle to myself. But the running earlier has made me more tired than I thought. I find myself taking another, then another. As I am chomping my way happily through the fourth cracker, I hear a sound. I immediately cease crunching and get ready to fight.

I checked the cave before I came in – no bears or anything at all to be honest. So why can I hear something behind me?

As quietly as possible, I reach for the machete inside my pack. It brushes against the cracker wrapper and it makes a tiny _crackle. _The thing jumps out from behind a rock. I almost laugh. Just a lizard. Just a stupid reptile.

By the looks of it, it hasn't finished with me yet. It scuttles closer and closer and I raise the machete. I notice that it doesn't have any eyes. Strange.

I decide that it is getting too close for comfort. I slam the weapon down on its skull and it crumples.

A cannon fire shocks me. Seven booms echo over the arena. I kick the carcass into the corner and hope for rain.

**Marella Lamia Cobalt, District Four**

I'm glad I left the Careers behind me. They seemed an odd lot this year and I trusted my instincts which were telling me that I'd be better off by myself.

When I entered the lake about half an hour ago, I had seen a small frame disappearing into the rocks. Good thing I'm not in a killing mood today, otherwise, they'd have been long dead.

After about twenty minutes trying to brainstorm a hopeless plan, I decide to investigate the lake. You never know with arena designs. In the past, lakes have contained food and pearls in their watery depths. I might strike lucky – plus I wouldn't mind a dip.

I take off the outer layer of my clothes – leaving my underwear, and I fashion the loose clothes into a sort of backpack. They'd weigh me down but what could be worse than having a tribute steal your clothes? I wouldn't go too deep.

The beach is sloping and smooth but when I am in to about my hips, the ground drops and I am left to flounder and regain my balance. I know that all cameras will be on me. Panem will be laughing their socks off. Instead of wading, I try to dive. The water is relatively clear and not all that cold. However, it is evident that there is a current and it is pulling me away from the beach.

I come up for air. The beach is getting smaller and my sodden clothes suddenly weigh a ton. I duck dive again and decide to follow the mysterious current. Better than sitting around on the beach. I don't swim far before I hit a rocky underwater wall. A large hole suggests a cave and would explain the current. But that means that somewhere in there, there must be an empty space not filled with water! It's too far to swim up, and my lungs are beginning to scream. I'd rather die investigating this than to drown halfway up. Plus, I'd never find this again in this huge lake.

I let the current guide me into the tunnel. The walls are closing in. I will get trapped like a cork in a bottle. Then loss of oxygen and intense pressure will kill me. Good choice, good choice.

But just as I think I'm going to have to inhale water, the tunnel walls widen and my head breaks the surface.


	22. Good Alliances, Bad Alliances

**Bonjour readers,**

**I hope you're liking the alliances in this chapter, and the two mysterious deaths... Don't worry - if you've reviewed in the past month, the chances are that your tribute is safe. For now.**

...**Je ne sais pas si cela va marcher, mais il est permis d'espérer.**

**I don't know if it will work, but we can always hope~**

**...**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Stag Browning, District Ten**

I am face to face with the girl, but neither of us makes a move to kill. Although her head barely reaches my chest, my District partner has intensity in her eyes that show that she would be a good ally. She seems to think the same.

"Allies?" I ask.

She nods and takes the small backpack off her shoulders. I do the same, with the pack I found on the rock mountain path. There isn't much in them, but shared, we'll make do. She reminds me of my dear sister Peregrine.

A brittle twig cracks ominously in the cave behind the little clearing. My new ally and I spin around, clutching weapons, ready to defend ourselves. But before I can throw one of my curved knifes, a voice echoes out of the shadows.

"Please! Don't kill me! I want to ally with you!" The darkness parts and a dark haired girl steps tentatively out of the shadows. It's the Eleven girl.

"Why should we trust you?" Some of the first words I have heard my District partner speak. Her voice is warbling but it has a steel core.

"Natalie," Eleven utters, "I believe it would be best if we worked together. A bigger group and shared supplies means a bigger chance of survival. Plus, I have a medium sized pack, which has enough food for all of us!"

Natalie's eyes narrow to thin slits. Personally, I trust the girl, but then again, it's hard to read her green eyes. I have never been great at trusting people. Look what happened to Aries when I trusted him to look over my siblings. He left them in the huge market and went to steal some expensive cigars.

Natalie has made a decision for all of us. "Okay Eleven, but you hand over all your weapons until we are sure we can trust you." I nod and fold my arms for back up.

Eleven starts to protest, "-but how can I defend my-" but stops when she sees Natalie's firm expression. Eleven wavers for a second, then smiles nervously and holds out her hand. "Ok. Hey, I'm Jaysper."

**Domitritius Waess, District Two**

Anumus' guttural laugh fills the silence. "What?" I say irritably. This is how it's been for the last three hours.

I'm incredibly unlucky this year. In just about all of the previous Games, there have been at least six careers. This year, there are three, including me. So in case you can't do the Maths, that is two arrogant Careers plus me equals a-stupidly-small-alliance-which-won't-make-us-vict ors.

Both of my two allies-for-now are a maddening pain, like an insect bite I cannot scratch. If I even attempt to rise against them, they're such good buddies, that I'd probably be killed in the first seven seconds. They are cocky and presumptuous. Look at the way they are lighting a fire as the sun goes down! Just because we are Careers, doesn't mean that we're indestructible!

Anumus glares at me. "Just because you're in a pathetic mood with us doesn't mean you have to spend your time contradicting me."

I stand up immediately. "Are you starting a fight?" I hold the sharp slab of wood I found in the Cornucopia.

"Gladly," he hisses, and steps towards me. Priya giggles and moves out of the blood and guts zone. Like she doesn't care who dies, as long as she gets to watch and not get messy.

Just as I'm about to make the first move, two cannons go off in quick succession.


	23. Two Deaths and a Promotion

**Hallo readers,**

**This is the newest update so far (obviously) and I just wanted to make a few things clear, which might not be easy to understand from this chapter! I did the little time frame thing to show what happened because a dying person isn't actually a very reliable narrator. And yes, the rebels are the ones who tried to overthrow the Capitol at the start of the Games. You haven't heard much from them because... well. There isn't much happening in their cell. Next chapter will explain why they failed.**

**Also, I'm very sorry to those who died this chapter. Poor Rye, he was an OK chap. Today I totted up all the reviews by EVERYONE and I decided to kill the tributes who's submitters hadn't reviewed at all. My condolences, but there is a chance you won't even read this.**

**Apologies and full of guilt,**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Alyssa "Ace" Berg, District Eight**

My skin is burning and melting off as I stare. Bubbling, frothing like a pan of boiling milk. The pain is like having hot needles stabbed into my chest, the agony restricting my lungs, making my scream bubble into nothingness.

Dancing black fairies flitter at the corner of my vision. Not enough to block out the white face of the One boy. He's pale and shaking. Wiping his hands on his shirt and turning to run. But he doesn't make it that far. At that moment, an even stronger wave of pain crashes over me and my eyes clench shut.

By the time I can open them again, the boy is on the ground, a spear in his chest, heaving and contracting as the muscles readied themselves for rigor mortis.

But what is this!? Is the pain leaving? A calm, soothing feeling swoops over me. Where there was agony, there is now tranquil emptiness. I sigh in relief. My life isn't over!

I am still thinking this happy thought when the dagger pierces my forehead.

**Mylo Kingfisher, Head Gamemaker**

The footage is intense – real action with tension so palpable, you could eat it. I replay the clip which is going live to Panem in just a moment.

_10:02:34 PM_

_Rye Kuna is sitting in his cave, waiting out the night with a knife beside him. But when the lizard mutt he thought he'd killed earlier springs to life, there is only one thing he can do. Kicking the creature into the tepid night, he settles down once more, vigilant for trespassers. _

_10:18:09 PM_

_When Alyssa Berg manages to noisily peak the summit in front of him, and at the same time Gamemaker Frenzy releases another mutt, Rye reacts in a way that no Games has seen before. He bats the second mutt into the air with his pack and it lands on the late Alyssa Berg. How convenient._

_10:19:52 PM_

_Rye Kuna is speared in the chest by one, Lash Frist, as he tries to escape the scene. _

_10:20:41 PM_

_Alyssa Berg experiences the late chemical reaction of the mutt poison, feeling as though she is cured. Even if she hadn't been stabbed in the head by Lash Frist, the last fatal misleading symptom of the mutt poison would have occurred, resulting in death._

_..._

I nod approvingly at Gamemaker Avery Glutton to broadcast the footage and I walk over to Gamemaker Dolenius Frenzy.

"That was some good work there, my friend." He looks a little apprehensive. Being the deputy Mutt Controller, he never got much attention from higher authority. "As a reward for your achievement, I am promoting you to Head Mutt Controller."

Dolenius Frenzy goes a very pale shade of white. "A-a-are you s-s-s-s-s-su-sure?"

I had to pick the stammering fool to promote didn't I? "Yes-s-s" I reply mockingly, and turn back to resume my perch on the balcony. "Oh, and Mitius Deliric," I call over my shoulder, "you're demoted."

A messenger enters the circular room a second later. "Kingfisher? I have a message for you." He looks at me meaningfully and I get his gist. We move away from the working Gamemakers.

"The rebels are ready to be seen."

Suddenly, my day gets one hundred percent better. I smile widely and take the note from the messenger's outstretched fist. It has the room name **'Pluto XX010' **scrawled on the creamy surface.

Ten minutes and four angry guards later, I am entering the cell. Five dishevelled, shackled figures sit, drenched in life's misery. I clear my throat, crack my knuckles and get reading to begin the harsh interrogation.

"So you though you could outsmart us, did you?"

* * *

**The Fallen:**

**Rye Kuna, **District One Boy [Cause of death: Spear in chest-_Lash Frist_]

**Alyssa "Ace" Berg, **District Eight Girl [Cause of death: Poison + Stab in the head-_Rye Kuna + Lash Frist_]


	24. Silenced Voices and Silent Voices

**Oh my. Lash and Cora, who would have known? **

**I don't really want to clarify anything in this chapter. I hope you recognise the little figure from the end of Belladie's POV. Leave me a review to say what you think, and if you remember him. C:**

**Hope you enjoy and sorry for the delay. I thought I'd posted it, and when I came home from school, I was like "OMGEE lets see if I got any reviews!" And I didn't, and I was miserable for an hour and 12 minutes. Then I realised I didn't post it. I'm such a dweeb sometimes ~**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Belladie Curter, Capitol rebel**

I hang my head. There is no answer I can give. I almost wish I could be killed sooner rather than have to see my former comrade's hopeless expressions. I was responsible for this plan and it failed.

Heriss' tongue has already been removed, and I will never hear her voice again. Whenever she tries to speak in this cell, her choked keening echoes off the walls but I don't have the heart to tell her to stop. This is what happens when you rebel against the Capitol. I should have seen it before.

When we were safely hidden behind the smokescreen, we started to saw at the fence with our gear, and it would have worked if we weren't tipped off. I try not to blame Heriss for it – she was being tortured for goodness sake – but somehow I can't help but feel resentful. We were a team and teams don't betray each other.

A hoarse laughing fills the room. I look up, surprised. It's Kingfisher, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as the silent cell watches. There is nothing funny about this. Five people, tortured, beaten, interrogated until we can't speak anymore, and still, they carry on.

The laughter stops as abruptly as it started. "What you don't seem to understand," Kingfisher intones, "is that the Capitol is unbeatable. What did you think, the start of the Hunger Games would have clouded our minds and we would have suddenly let all our guards off duty? If you did, then you are stupid. Plain stupid."

The speech hurts me more than physical pain. He's right. It was stupid. How could we – no - how could _I _be so imprudent that I'd lead four good people to their deaths.

With a swirl of his expensive coat tails, Kingfisher is gone, with a shout of "_I can't stand the lot of them. Get someone else to do the dirty work – I'm done_" to the guards outside.

Almost as soon as his rich aftershave scent has dispersed, a new figure enters the room. One we are all familiar with. He holds a knife and his expression is one of joy.

"Are you ready for round 2, my sugar bees?"

**Coraline Rige, District Seven**

"Was that really necessary?" I ask timidly. I'm still not sure about Lash. Any wrong question, any wrong answer could cause him to flip out and kill me.

"Yes." That's all he says. I haven't heard him speak more than one syllable at a time since the Games began. I think that something happened when he passed out in the Opening Ceremony. There is an aloofness about him, and an air of a cold blooded killer who wouldn't think twice before plunging a knife into my heart.

It's at times like these when I nudge Monty out of my pocket. His smooth head feels comforting against my fingers and I immediately feel more relaxed. It's pitch black, we have no fire and my eyelids are drooping. It's also a little cold and we can't share the sleeping bag we found in Lash's pack. My pack is too small for something like that, so I have to make do with reflective foil, while Lash takes the bag.

Within seconds, Lash is asleep, muttering softly, and I know what to do. I carefully edge over to the side of the cave and climb the natural stone stairs to the higher ridge. I won't fall if I roll in my sleep because the ridge is very wide. I don't trust Lash as much as I did before. The two kills he made about an hour ago were appalling and I don't know if I can spend much longer with him.

We found each other about halfway up the mountain, late afternoon. We were both heading in the same direction, and we both had found a small pack. Instead of flipping out, and spearing me with his weapon, he seemed to find a speck of normality in me, a memory of something before we were in this arena. That is probably why he threw the spear at the ground at my feet and held out his hand.

Sleep clouds my thoughts, but just as I drift off, I realise that Lash has two sides to him. The polished, marble surface of the stone hearted killer, and the softer compassionate side, which is rarely glimpsed.

Am I making a bad descision with my ally? I wouldn't know.


	25. The Predator and its Prey

**This chapter is grim. Yes, lovely readers, there will be another death at the end of this chapter, but their identity will not be revealed until next chapter. Oh I do love cliffhangers!**

**Sorry for not updating for like, a week or something. I kind of forgot...**

**Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a review. Who do you think has died? :)**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Sienna Garcia, District Three**

I break the surface of my dream, gasping for air as if I had been drowning. I clutch at the memory of the nightmare. It filters through my groping fingers. My hair sticks to my forehead and my heart is trying to flutter out of my chest.

It is dawn and the artificial light of the arena creeps down slowly to greet me. As my mind untangles itself, I begin to remember my surroundings. No pack, no food, but water. Whether it's clean or not will be answered if I die of poisoning. Right now, all I can think of is the gaping space in my brain where the dream was.

I shovel water into my parched mouth. I'm quite lucky on this respect. I have a small stream, which will soon turn into rapids at the bottom, and a good view from my perch on the mountainside. The down point though – I am vulnerable. This is the most obvious route up the mountain.

When I have finished drinking, I feel bloated. But not even that amount of water can quench the nagging tug at my stomach. I need food, but there is not even a sight of vegetation for miles. It' just dusty rock and water. I keep perfectly still and gaze into the crystalline water, but there is no tell-tale sign of flashing fish.

That's when I realise. There is nothing to do all day. All I can do is search for food in vain and try to avoid others. I am lonely. Deathly lonely and I wish I could get out of here. Alyssa, my poor little sister. She'll be at home, Mum and Dad off to the pub and their job respectively. Maybe my best friends Lily and Rose would help to look after her? Unlikely, seeing as they have their own families to worry about.

The fake sun has peaked the horizon. The day is here, and is strangely beautiful. I can hear a bird announcing the birth of the day. Wait – a bird? If I could find it, then I could kill it, somehow, and eat it! I stand up, alert now, with a mission on my mind. The bird is like nothing I've heard before, a cackling call which seems suspiciously similar to something at the back of my mind.

I follow the sound quickly and quietly, and thank heavens, the bird is insistent and loud. I trace the call to a small rocky clearing, but as I enter, a fluttering form bursts into life and flaps off another hundred feet away. I run now, not caring about how loud I am. I am running for the sheer hell of it. I think I'm going nuts.

Then I'm flying, but not skyward. My face smacks into the rock and blood blossoms onto the ground beneath my eyes. I roll over awkwardly to see what I tripped on. I see something round and lumpy. It's a pack! I grin widely. This must be my lucky day.

**Natalie Dismal, District Ten**

The alliance is working like a well-oiled machine. Combined, we have enough power and strength to overwhelm the opposition, but the only thing I worry about is the end. We all know that we are going to have to split up eventually, or resort to the classic slit throat in sleep method. I should take off before we have to even discuss that matter.

We are just packing our bags to move to a new site – you can never stay somewhere too long – when I see a strange sight. It's far off and considerably further down the mountain, but as we are on a protruding ledge, my view is extraordinary.

It's a bird. A huge, whopping, swooping bird. It looks mean from above, but oddly coloured. A violet head, with a streaked brown and white back. A extreme version of the golden eagle, but the proportions are all wrong. I notice how better I can see the creature. It is moving towards us. A predator locked onto prey. I am just about to scream a warning to my oblivious allies, when it does a sharp turn and veers off towards the stream to our right.

There is a far-off screech. "What's that?" Stag asks, turning around anxiously. I hush him quickly. Then there is a unmistakably human scream. The bird comes into my view once more. A cannon fires. The thing has something in its gargantuan beak.

It comes much closer now. The beast is at least the size of a truck. Yet it doesn't acknowledge us as it shoots by, but we can all see the thing clamped in its beak. Stag and Jaysper see it a few seconds after me. Jaysper gasps, Stag groans.

For the thing in the mutt's bloody beak, is a headless human corpse.


	26. A Fight and the End

**Gah! I spent at least ten minutes pondering on who should die. Plot twists, how many times the submitter had reviewed. But in the end, I decided. And I hope I surprised you. I surprised myself. It all worked with this person... (And the death is not necessarily this POV.)**

**Oh and forgive me, I don't think I could have including swearing in this SYOT, not after the way I've written the first 25 chapters. My apologies, please replace 'jerk', 'freaking' and 'prick' with some more colourful words.**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

**Anumus Titan, District Four**

His head bleeds from a small cut above his left eyebrow. He has always been the outsider, not being able to tell when Priya and I want him to leave. But now is the time to strike. A raucous caw woke us this early morning and I am as fresh as anything for a fight.

We circle each other. I managed to get within his tight circle of protection but the incision on his forehead is the only thing I could manage before he blocked me. That was ten minutes ago. I've tried numerous moves and feints, but he is skilled. More than once, he has managed to almost scratch me before I can block.

I wonder whether I can win this fight. The cannon fires broke off our argument last night, but this is something that needs to be done. One of us has to die.

I don't even know where Priya is. She disappeared a while ago. Bored, probably.

We are spinning slowly towards the mountain. Domitrius slashes towards me. I almost snort with contempt; I could see that coming from a mile. But as I start to block, his sharpened wood spear veers to one side. A feint! Yet as his spear plummets to the ground, he turns on his tail and starts sprinting away!

I start laughing. "You coward! You absolute chicken!"

The only thing to do is follow. How could I turn down a good chance to fight? I follow the receding sound of slapping footsteps and realise Domitrius is taking the simplest route by the river. Is there nothing between his ears? Anyone would know to take a more complicated route to ward off an attacker.

I am beginning to tire and I've only run about 400 meters. Running up a steep slope is exhausting. That's when I realise I can't hear Domitrius anymore. Where's the little jerk gone?

I slow down and rest my foot on a boulder by the river to catch my breath. I survey the surroundings. There's a waterfall crashing down a few meters to a rocky pool, two feet away. The river forks, the right stream plodding slowly towards the rapids, the left stream ending in the aforementioned waterfall. I narrow my eyes. The coward, running off with his tail between his legs. You'd think he'd never been trained.

Just as I am about to head further up the mountain in pursuit of the ignorant devil, two solid hands punch into my side and I am cart wheeling backwards. A trick.

Before I can topple backwards into the river and be swept gently but swiftly into the waterfall and have my brains crushed on the pool bottom, I grab onto the retreating hands. Domitrius looks shocked. He expected me to be on my fall of death by now. I dropped my spear into the river. I spare a lightening glance behind me. It's gone, swept away.

Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with anger. "You freaking prick!" My vision is red and my only aim is to hurt, to draw blood on the creature in front of me.

I dart away from the river's edge so he can't play the same trick twice. Then I launch into a wild frenzy. Go for the eyes.

My nails rake down his face and blood blossoms. He is momentarily surprised, but retorts by launching a uppercut. The punch jars my jaw and I taste metallic blood. Answering back with a kick to the groin, I attempt the move taught by us in Training. The one that took me a week to master.

Domitrius yells as my foot finds its mark, and I get up close. Then, immobilising his hands by grabbing them abruptly, I jam two fingers into his eyeball.

This time he screams. With genuine pain. Discoloured jelly tumbles out of the socket and he falls to the ground. I revel in my victory.

The sky goes black. Something is above us. A hovercraft maybe? But Domitrius isn't dead yet.

I look up.

With a familiar caw, the ginormus eagle dives at me. I dodge the beast and try to lure it to the figure on the ground. "Take this piece of meat, bird! He's almost dead anyway!"

There is no recognition in its dull eyes. It begins to attack again. I have nothing to defend myself with. A female scream comes from the other side of the river. A girl, blood dripping from a graze on her face is staring with horror at the bird. She has distracted my attention for the briefest moment.

That's when the bird hits.

Then there is... nothing.

**The Fallen:**

**Anumus Titan, **District Four Boy [Cause of death: Decapitated – _Bird Mutt_]


	27. Attached by a Thread

**Hi guys!**

**Thanks for sticking with me this long - and thanks for all the reviews! I'm impressed with the turn out!**

**Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. Maybe a bit gory? Not as bad as the last one, I promise!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Charm Penlum, District One**

I am just waking up from the uncomfortable position in the stunted tree when I see the parachute. It sits proudly in the branches above me. But... but I haven't even done anything to gain sponsors. I'm the quiet, mildly skilled One girl who won't kill other people. The cuckoo in the nest.

Oh well. A sponsor gift is a sponsor gift. Before anyone else comes along to take my gift, I swing up the tree. The branches seem stable, but just in case, I test each branch before trusting it with my life. After a few near misses with rotten wood, I manage to reach the silver pot. Already excited, I click open the clasp and it reveals a package. Placing the parachute and case in my lap, I unwrap the paper and find a small feast. All for me!

Sliced oranges, ten crackers, a rich yellow cheese and a knife to cut it with. The knife actually looks quite sharp, so I decide to keep it to defend myself with. Of course, I won't intend to cause any severe damage, but to save my life, I'd risk a few cuts and scratches on the attacker. I figure the easiest way to carry the parachute is to sling the cords over my chest on a slant and put the gifts back in the case. That way, it will almost be like a shoulder bag.

It is also time to move. My tactic is to move around and make sure I have no contact with the other tributes until the last possible moment. Wait - before I go! I almost forgot to say thankyou! Eager to find a position where the cameras can easily find my face, I mouth a large pronounced 'thank you' through a threadbare area in the tree.

Then I begin heading towards the ground. I feel the way with my foot and if the branch seems stable enough, I stand on it, and move my arms down, keeping close to the trunk where the branches are strongest. This method seems to be working well until I step on a seemingly solid branch. Suddenly, I am moving towards the ground much faster than I'd like.

Something stops me. A burning line of pressure, centred around the base of my skull. I scream, as if it would help. I scrabble wildly for a handhold or foothold. I can't see below me, as my head is wrenched back as far as it will go. My vision dims. And just like that, the thing is gone and I am descending to earth once more.

I hit the floor with a crunch. I groan in pain, but nothing seems broken. Good thing I wasn't too high when I fell. What was it that stopped me falling? I feel the raw area on the back of my neck. That's when I realise something is missing. My token. The only trace of home I have left. My beautiful flute tied onto a string and knotted around my neck.

It must have caught on a twig or uneven part of the trunk, I think as I scour the ground around the base of the tree. And the knot or the string must have broken, which is why I plummeted to the ground. After five futile minutes, I realise that the flute has not succumbed to the force of gravity. Therefore, it is still up there.

Do I want to put my life on the line once more? What is more important: my safety, or a flute? I know the answer. I start climbing the tree again.

**Priya Pendus, District Two**

"Anumus!?" I scream up the mountain. "Where are you? Who was that cannon for? Was it Domitrius?"

Nothing answers me, but the call of the breeze. I quickly wipe away a small tear. Hay fever. It's only hay fever, I tell myself. You don't care about Anumus that much.

I'm exposed and without a decent weapon, but I have my reputation and my close-combat skill. I should be fine, if everyone has some sense. The mountain towers above me, an infinite landscape full of places where Anumus could be hiding.

I start by the stream. The most obvious, but on the other hand, the least obvious to a tactical person. I don't have to run far before I see the skid marks and the blood stains. "Anumus!" I cry again.

A lingering groan answers me. "Anumus! Are you hurt?" I call. I can start to make out a shape upstream by about 100 yards. A body perhaps? But not dead yet. When I reach the body, the ground is slick with a clear jelly marbled with red blood. And there, behind the person. A head. A white nub of bone protruding from the ragged gore of the previously neck. Redness staining the rocks. Whatever did this was not human. I can't see the face. I don't want to.

Instead, I turn over the body in front of me. What greets my eyes is something I don't want to see. "Domitrius," I hiss. He gurgles. Then moans. I don't know what to do. Obviously, Anumus is dead, and I spare no lingering thought for him. But do I kill Domitrius? One less competitor to deal with. But still?

As if to answer the turmoil in my head, a parachute floats down from the sky. I leap onto the goodies. Cracking open the case with barely suppressed delight, I find a first aid kit.

Clean linen bandages, a few tubes of antiseptic and medicine, and some scissors. I sit there for a second, shocked by the contents. Then I turn to Domitrius, lying prone on the floor. I stay like that for a minute or so. Then I stand. And throw the gift onto the ground.

No, NO, NO! The last 'no' I scream at the sky. I must not form attachments to tributes. I move in for the kill.


	28. Should I Leave or Stay?

**Wow! I'm breaking a record for longest chapter every new update! Well, I hope you don't find it too long.**

**And I also hope you review. I try to aim for at least three different people reviewing every chapter so I know that people are aware of updates. I have had about that amount for a while now, but last chapter it seemed like no one knew until later on! Is there anything I'm doing wrong!?**

**Anyway, don't forget to leave a review - you know I live for reviews. Thanks!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Lash Frist, District Seven**

There is a patch at the back of my mouth which won't dampen. My tongue feels gummy and I feel light headed. I'm dying, slowly. And I know it. I bet the girl knows it as well. I don't even know her name. But I can see in her eyes, pity. Well I don't want pity. I killed two people. I don't need pity.

Do I leave this alliance or not? I have supplies of my own. But I'd have to kill the girl. No matter what angle I look at this, I feel like I couldn't kill her. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never felt like this before. No. It's not love. More like... fondness. A small, nagging, unfamiliar emotion which tickles me like an insect bite.

Go or not go? As I wrack my brains for reasons to stay, I spot a small dash of colour. A... flower. A purple flower. Like the ones my mum used to grow in the garden. At the thought of my mum, the weird feeling I felt at the opening ceremony returns. But this is stronger. I am finding it hard to pull air into my lungs. I start to gasp for oxygen and my vision pales.

Blood and screaming and wailing and tears. I squeeze my hands to my ears and moan. The sounds are splitting my head open. The paleness fades to red, the colour of my mum's blood. No. Not again!

But before I can truly loose control, the girl spins around. I think she is talking to me but all I can hear is a low humming. She places her cold hand upon my forehead. The change in temperature cools me. It's almost as if the spirit of my mum is channelling through this girl and into me. She is telling me to be calm. Don't flip out. Like you do all the time.

One by one, rational thoughts float back and the world comes into focus. I am crushing the flower in my hand. I sit up and gently release my fingers and the flower springs back into shape. The petals are a little frayed. Do I leave or do I not?

I pick a petal off. It floats to the ground. Leave. Another petal joins it. Stay. On and on, until one last spindly petal remains. I pluck it. Leave.

The girl is looking at me in wonder. I bet she thinks I'm mad. What kind of person goes berserk, then instantly once they are better, shreds a flower to pieces bit by bit? I'll have to wait until she's busy. Then I can leave. Although I feel an attachment to her, I am making the eventual outcome easier for both of us. Eventually, I would have had to have killed her anyway.

With the toe of my foot, I nudge the pile of purple petals to the side and stand stretching. I still need water. But I refuse to drink. I might die from poisoning or worse. No, I'll be better off waiting until I can find some unquestionably safe water. But I have to go. I prepare the pack I own under the false pretence of checking it for bugs.

When the time comes, and I know it will, I'll be off before you can say 'Lash is a nutcase'.

**Bronte Pratt, District Six**

I've been here just over fifteen minutes and I've seen more than I wanted to. The crime scene; blood and jelly, and the head. The body lying on it's side, faint movement showing that some life still remains. When the bird mutt came and killed the attacker, I could barely move. I could have done something. Anything. But fear paralysed my muscles and I couldn't have moved if I had wanted to.

The boulder I am crouched behind must have offered more protection than I thought. I was simply taking an early morning sip of water when the two male tributes appeared. I don't think they saw me, but if they had, they were too involved in battle to do anything about it. But then the bird came and one boy was killed. There was a girl; it was the Three girl I think; she distracted the attacker, and that's why he was killed. Then she ran off. The other boy was on that path until the Two girl came along.

It seemed like she was having a debate in her head at one point. Then when the parachute came, she went bonkers, throwing the gift on the ground and trampling on it. I almost went out to try to stop her. But I knew that would have ended badly for me. Then she started screaming 'no!' before running towards the barely alive body.

Now, she sits, cradling the head, tears streaming down her face. I guess the Games has this effect on people. The sane ones go mad, and maybe even the insane become sane. I hope I don't end up as psychologically challenged as her. I could die.

Actually, I was shocked that I've reached this far. My creepy premonition of my death in the Bloodbath was not fulfilled, as I took every means to get as far away from it as possible.

Wait! - There is change in the Two girl's movements. She is crawling through the grim sludge towards the trampled kit. Yes! I almost cry. She rescues most of the items and makes her way towards the boy. Almost caringly, she moves the body to a cleaner patch of rock. A bloody trail follows his path. She cleans the wounds and dresses the eye. In just a few minutes, the boy is almost cleaner than her.

What is wrong with her? I thought Careers were supposed to be heartless creatures who didn't care if their allies died.

But I need to move. I've spent too long here. My legs are dead and bloodless and I try to stretch them out silently. Feeling soon returns with a painful case of pins and needles. I turn gradually and try to plan out a route. Eventually, I decide that I should just make a dash for it. I'll have a head start and my running isn't awful.

Just as I'm about to make a break for it, a cannon fire breaks the peace. I turn back hurriedly and peek around the rock. I can just make out the girl frantically checking the body. She turns it over. I almost groan with disgust. The whole back of the boy's shirt is pure red, and the ground is slippery with it. The Two girl obviously forgot to turn him over to check for any other cuts. This one looks fatal. And yes, I can see no tell-tale sign of breath.

At the same time I realise, the girl does too and emits a cry of despair. I take this slim opportunity to leave.


	29. You Could be Gamemaker

**Welcome back!**

**The winner of my little 100review Competition is... HISTORYREPEATS! They have chosen two tributes to die...**

**...**

**NOTE: I AM GOING TO FRANCE ON MONDAY 1ST JUNE AND RETURNING THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY (5TH). THIS MEANS I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO WRITE CHAPTERS. WHICH SUCKS FOR YOU GUYS (and me) :(**

**...**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Aden 'Red-Haired' Hanran, District Eight**

The cannon removes me from sleep's comforting arms. I sit bolt upright and my back tingles from the hard ground and a long night. Who was that? Who's life just ended? I hope it wasn't the girl from my District. She seemed an alright girl.

I can see the whole of the arena from this cave, and what's more, it is really hard to find. I spent ten treacherous minutes navigating the cliff face that starts at the mountain peak last night. So I should be safe here.

Almost as soon as my eyes have cleared and I have told myself off for sleeping in, a parachute billows down into the mouth of my ledge cave. I leap onto the shiny item and undo the clasp. Really, seeing as I already have a pack with basic necessities in it, I don't really need another gift. But I won't say no.

The contents squeezes all air out of my lungs.

Two dummies wrapped in baby blue tissue paper. I laugh joyously, and then I start to cry. Lena gave birth to our twins, and I wasn't there to support her.

Before I had to come to this infernal arena, my mentor and I devised a code if Lena gave birth. A dummy for each boy, meaning safe and healthy births, but white tissue paper if one of them had passed away.

I hope Lena can see me now; hold our newborn sons up to the TV screen and say, 'this is your daddy, little ones. That's right – and he'll be home soon enough.'

My mind is a tangle of fanatical thoughts, blurred memories and fantasies of newborn life. There is one crystal thought which I could not mistake for anything else. I will come home.

**Lena Hanran, District Eight**

Colin begins to wail, but I rub his head gently before he can interrupt the footage. Adalin senses Colin's distress and opens his mouth to scream, but I speedily give him some milk. He is suddenly content.

In all the bother of shushing the twins for the moment when Aden gets his parachute, I miss the footage all together. The last thing I see before the footage switches to the Two girl, still beside the body, is Aden's hopeful and determined face. He is looking straight at the camera, the dummies and paper forgotten in his hands. I know what he is like when he looks like that. He will stop at nothing – nothing to get what he wants. And he wants to come home.

**Jaysper Pavane Grey, District Eleven**

Everything is tense since we saw the body. It's only brought issues rising to the surface. This alliance has to end soon. We can't keep pretending that it's alright. We could hold out a few more days, but I can almost taste the hostility rising from Natalie.

We've been walking all day, and the tepid day is stifling. Sweat pins my clothes to my skin and I stop every so often to take a sip of water. Even farming the crops wasn't as tiring as this. At least we got small breaks to eat lunch. Natalie powers onwards, and although she is adamant that nothing has been established, it is clear that she is leading our alliance.

Stag also looks tired, but he doesn't say a word. He is very polite – too polite I think to tell Natalie that we need to rest. Eventually, I sit down. Stag stops first and joins me on the rocks. It takes a good few minutes for Natalie to realise that her companions are not dutifully following her footsteps.

"What are you doing?" She says indifferently, "We need to get moving if we are going to reach the summit by dusk."

I see her logic – easy to defend and a good panorama view. But all the same, the effort required is draining and I know Stag feels the same.

"We need to rest." I reply flatly. Stag looks surprised to be included in this but I ignore him. "If you want us to reach the summit, let us do it without killing ourselves of exhaustion. Remember, you don't own us. We can take off whenever we want."

Natalie looks affronted. "Fine. But be quick about it. Last thing you want is to get ambushed." She looks around. Our resting spot isn't in a very good position and even I can see that. Even so, I take a few more gulps of water and shove a handful of nuts in my mouth.

Natalie unexpectedly stills and it almost seems as if she isn't breathing. Her eyes are squinted and I know not to make a sound.

"Run!" She hisses, not moving a muscles. Stag and I are shocked into action. I can still see nothing, but Natalie's sharp eyes spotted the bird last time, before it barely cleared the horizon.

We rush up the trail, and see Natalie pounding behind us. "No, you imbeciles! DOWN!"

Before I know it, I see what she is terrified of. A wall of rocks, dust and boulders, churning down the slope at full speed. The one thing that scares climbers out of their wits. An avalanche.


	30. Five Blind Mutts

**Woop woop! 30 chapters already :o**

**So the competition. Well. The deaths are not going to be this chapter, because it just didn't fit in with my plans for the story. But you can expect it within the next two or so chapters. I haven't forgotten, so don't worry! I don't know whether I should tell you guys who the tributes are or not?**

**Well, happy reading and hopefully the next chapters with the deaths will be up soon!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Kyle 'Animal' Lanyer, District Three**

It's time to cross over the river once more. I'm safe here, and I have food but to be honest, it's boring. No one else is obviously as clever as me and I'm dying for a fight. I've heard four cannons just in the first day, and I've seen absolutely nothing. Being out of the way sucks.

The pack I found after I passed out, following my dip last night is perfect. Close fitting, sleek and camouflaged, it's the ideal find for a tribute. It even has a whole host of different food.

I'm standing on the bank where I pulled myself out before. I can even see the place where I set off from, but I know the current will pull me further down. But this time, I'm aiming for a flat sandy dip in the boulders a few meters downstream. Now I know what to expect, I can probably make it without a fuss.

Entering the water far more calmly, I let the water carry me, whilst gently propelling to the other side. With much less effort, I scrabble onto the tiny beach and shake off the water. It's early afternoon and the sun is just after its peak. I can already feel the fabric of my clothes start to dry and harden.

I listen for any noises indicting company, but there is nothing. But gradually, a small noise intensifies. A rumble. Is it my stomach? Surely not – I have literally just eaten a handful of raisins. The grumble increases in volume. It's not my stomach.

Before long, I see the dust. Some part of the mountain must have crumbled, or maybe the Gamemakers hit a switch. To everyone who is on the mountain – it sucks to be you right now. I feel slightly smug. I hope someone dies. Better for me.

**Terchias Manechin, Gamemaker**

"Er... Kingfisher?" I call out tentatively across the room. Everyone knows the Head Gamemaker is in a bad mood, and when he's like this, no one knows what he will do.

Almost as if my call had been a lighted match, Kingfisher's face seethes instantly. "What is it?"

I beckon him over to look at my screen. He looks positively murderous, but I hold out. He's going to like it.

Like I predicted, his face instantly glows with a cheerful light and he gives me the thumbs up. "You really are a genius aren't you?" he cackles. "Let them into the arena and let them do their worst." He walks back unsteadily across to his perch. I think he's been drinking but I can't be sure. He giggles every now and then, a peculiar light in his eyes.

I turn back to my screen proudly and press a button. At the very same instant, five hungry creatures are released into the arena.

**Emilia Jatos, District Nine**

My breath is short and there is a painful throbbing in my head. The things face me, dribbling and hungry. I don't know what to do.

There are five of them. They look like humans. They all have the same tattoo on their foreheads; three stars. They wear tatty clothes covered in stains and human misery, but I can see signs of faded splendour. Capitol made-outfits gone to ruin. These were Capitol citizens once, but all traces of human life are gone. The thing which is most wrong is that they have pure white eyeballs. Where are they staring? Are they looking at me?

The closest one emits a gurgle. It looks vaguely feminine. I see no tongue in her mouth. An avox perhaps? But what harm can they do? Should I be scared of them or not?

One at the back, a pitiful creature with faded blue curls lunges forward. I run. I can't take the risk of being killed now. Inhuman screams of delight follow my path and I know that these human mutts are not safe in any way possible.

I'm already panting; I'm unfit. And I've only made it a little way. I can hear the things gaining. I take a second to whip my head around. Blue-curls leads the pack, and her face is contorted into a scream. This is it, Emilia. If God is truely with me, he'd give me a hand right now.

It looks like I'm going to have to play my intelligence card. If speed and strength is failing me, I still have one more thing to fall back on. Although my legs are screaming too, I pound in a gradual arc back to where we started. Hopefully the creatures are either too dim to realise, or too weak to swim. The lake is edging back into view and the ravenous keening behind me is not diminishing.

The beach begins and the rocks become smaller and sparser. And just like that, I'm pounding through the shallows. Water obstructs my movements and I start really panicking. It's like the classic nightmare, except this time, it's real. _Calm it Emilia_, I tell myself, _they can't go any faster in water than you can._

I have reached the depth where it is faster to swim. I draw the last remaining energy to pummel through the water. When I am a sufficient way into the lake, I stop swimming. Like magic, the water seems to be a natural block. The creatures are furiously skulking at the water's edge, but not even daring to touch the shallow waves. But then all at once, I realise the dilemma I have placed myself in. The mutts are in no hurry. They can simply wait at the shore. When I try to swim out on one side, they can run around the lake to intercept me. So I have to wait here in the middle of the lake, sculling. I don't have enough energy to keep going.

I close my eyes and begin to pray vehemently, trying to summon energy to keep afloat.


	31. Glass Walls and Underwater Dancers

**Hey-hoo. Yeah, the deaths aren't this chapter. There are deaths, but only ones which I came up with on the spot. (mwuahaha)**

**Next chapter. I promise *crosses fingers***

**Love you all,**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Marella Lamia Cobalt, District Four**

I scream helplessly. The lizards are almost upon me. I've been able to ward them off with the carving knifes from the pack, but their fear is diminishing by the second. I saw what they did to the fish. The minute water creatures which managed to swim down to this cavern . And then to greet them at the end of their journey; mutts to leap onto them, poisonous skin and all. If the mutts touch me, then I'll be one of the gulping, convulsing creatures I have seen this night.

Just a few rocks to perch on, before I'd have to take the plunge. I'd be swimming against the current, but at least I know that I can get out. I have to go. I don't want to die down here.

A skitter there; pebbles hit the water. The mutts are rabbit size, but that doesn't weaken their toxicity. The dark light in the cave makes it hard to see them. This is it. I can't take every moment possibly being my last.

Making sure my pack and clothes are strapped to my back, I perform a few breathing exercises to get oxygen flowing vigorously. When I'm done, I splash water on my body to ready myself for the temperature change.

I take a huge gulp of air and dive in. The cavern is dim, but I can just make out the tunnel entrance underwater. It's hard going – the current is powerful – but soon I am swimming up the tunnel again. My muscles begin to hurt. My head is a little fuzzy. But still, no sign of light. Surely I would be able to see the exit by now?

Something brushes against my leg. I scrunch up protectively, but it's just seaweed trailing from a rocky outcrop. I can see a few rays of light. I must be near the opening now. But fighting the current has drained my energy. And I'm no where near the surface. I begin to doubt my previous water experience.

Finally, I reach the opening. The current is so strong here, I have to hold onto the rim of the tunnel. Black spots cloud my vision. You need to get to the surface! I haul myself out of the tunnel and to the side to escape the pull. Almost reflexively, my lungs release all the air they contain. No! I watch my air escape to the morning air. Like little jellyfish wriggling skyward.

I need to get up. Now. My limbs are sluggish and oxygen-deficient. My chest convulses for air. Kick, Marella, kick! But something stops me from kicking. Maybe a mix of pure tiredness, or maybe partly the thing a few meters away from me. A camera. Attached to a pole, which in turn, is attached to the rock face.

The Capitol are watching me die. For entertainment! The livid anger that courses through my body gives me the strength to kick. But that is not enough.

I see something light years away from me. A dancer dances above me. A beautiful black silhouette, which gets closer and closer. If I could breathe, I would have laughed.

That is when I realise that that breath I took in the cave was my last.

I breathe in.

**Stag Browning, District Ten**

"To the side! To the side!" I try to call out to Natalie and Jaysper. I picked up the useful information from a travelling teacher, but never thought I'd need it. Run to the side and down from an avalanche. My long legs easily give me ground and I hope that my two allies will follow my path. There is no trail leading in the direction I want, so I end up having to leap over rocks and boulders. I just hope there aren't any snakes hiding behind them.

The bottom of the mountain is in sight, but it will take longer to get there because we are running at an angle. I see another figure, running straight down. And several tributes at the bottom, simply staring at the face of the roaring cloud of dust and rocks.

We're at the bottom, but we have to keep running. I pass the tributes. It's the Seven boy. He looks mesmerised. His ally, presumably, is tugging his arm and begging him to run.

I don't even know where I'm running. I peek behind me. Natalie is ahead of Jaysper, who is flagging. "Come on!" I shout. "Just get as far away from the mountain as you can!"

The rumbling ceases. Then there is silence. This was not a natural occurrence. The Gamemakers flushed us out of the mountain to get us all together. To make us kill each other.

I stop running and face the sight behind me. An invisible wall seems to have appeared. The rocks and several up-rooted trees are pressed against it. I almost expect the wall to break like glass. But this is no glass wall. This is high-tech Capitol engineering. Dirt blocks most of the view, but it is apparent that the wall circles the whole mountain.

It was an efficient way of getting us together. But now, we need to find a new territory before tributes start moving in for the kill.

Not bothering to check if my allies are following, I run to where the sun is beginning to set.

A cannon goes once. Then twice.

* * *

**The Fallen:**

**Marella Lamia Cobalt**, District Four girl [Cause of death: Drowning]

**Sienna Garcia**, District Three girl [Cause of Death: Crushed by rocks]


	32. The Warriors We Remember

**Hey there guys - it's finally the holidays so hopefully there will be regular updates! **

**Ooh, longest chapter yet. And I stuck to my promise. So here are the depressing deaths which made the author bawl. Not literally. *coughs***

**I hope you're not too depressed by this chapter, and I'm sorry submitters, you know how much I hate killing OC's. RIP.**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Coraline Rige, District Seven**

"Lash! Lash! We need to move out!" Although his chest betrays that he is still breathing, the rest of his body is frozen. Fear, mesmerisation, or just another breakdown, I don't know. But the one thing that I do know is that all the tributes have been packed into one area of the arena and shortly they'll be turning on us.

I clap in front of his eyes. Lash blinks once and seems to return to reality. I drag him away from the mountain, before he starts to run unaided. Soon we are bolting away and the mountain becomes a small peak in the distance. As we pass a half-obliterated cave, I am suddenly on the floor with a mouth full of blood. I spit it out disgustedly, and a small pearly tooth lies on the ground. Gross.

The obstacle I collided with also sits on the floor, Lash's spear resting on his temple. It's the Eight one. His eyes are wide, and his hair is standing on end. "Please! Let me join your alliance! I have skills and knowledge which could help you."

Lash looks at me for confirmation. If I remember correctly, this was the guy who had a girl at home, pregnant with twins. I think about it for a second. Maybe this is what we need – another strong ally to help me when Lash goes... like he goes. "Can we trust you?" I ask, even though I've already made my mind up. The guy nods his head solemnly. "You can. I'm Aden Hanran."

"Alright then, you can join us." Lash looks a little confused as to what is happening, but I will explain it to him later, when we've found somewhere to hide. We both stand up and turn towards the sunset. Although computer-generated, it still seems as beautiful as it is at home.

We head in the path of the dying sun, and as we walk, I feel the gap in my mouth. It hurts a little, but it isn't unbearable. My energy seems to be sinking with the sun. It seems like I've been running or walking all day - which I suppose I have. Just as we stop to rest and drink a little, at the edge of a large clearing, a shadow drops from an overhang above us.

A flash of silver, and a grunt. I leap up, and draw a small knife from the pack sitting on the floor. My heart is racing and blood boils in my veins. What is out there in the dusk?

"Show yourself!" I shout, trying not to let my nerves show. The night is upon us, and a wind starts up. Something brushes against my arm. I scream and slash with the knife. Where are Aden and Lash? A face looms out of the darkness, but it is only Aden. He holds his finger over his lips.

I can barely see the knife I am squeezing, white knuckled, in my fist. Is Lash out there? I want to whisper, but I can't force my vocal chords into action. Someone yells – it's a feminine shout, and then there is a horrible sucking noise. The shout turns into a scream of pain. Then another voice cries out, this one male. But it's not Lash. Or Aden, for that matter. I don't recognise the voices, so it must be a spar between two other tributes.

At that moment, the moon emerges from behind the clouds and the clearing is illuminated by a ghostly light. What greets my eyes is something out of the ordinary. Two intimidating figures, grotesquely human, but twisted like no human could. One is on the floor in a pool of black, and one is going that way. Lash is twisting his spear into the creature's chest, while it madly scrabbles at him.

Mutts maybe? I don't know, but I almost stop breathing. Three figures peel away from the rocks and join the fight. Are they on our side? I don't know but they seem to be helping Lash kill the mutt. The moon disappears behind the clouds once more. The air is suddenly freezing, and I huddle into the background. Should I be helping Lash? Where has Aden disappeared to? I can see nothing but black, but I can hear everything. If I could melt into the rocks now, I would.

I hear frenzied feet slap on the ground. There are more people then. Could all the tributes possibly be in this one enclosed space? I fear for my life. I hear a voice – it's Aden! "Kill me! I'd rather you killed me than lay a hand on her. " A savage hiss follows.

Silvery light coats the scene. Lash and the group of three are finishing off the mutt. Two more people have joined the group. Two people who appear to be dancing. I look closer. It's Aden. And... The Two girl. I realise what she is doing.

She has stabbed Aden through the chest and is attempting to withdraw her knife. I gasp unintentionally and tears prick my eyes. The Career's coal black eyes flit to where I hide in the shadows, but she appears to pass me by. She gives an extra good yank, and the knife comes out. My short alliance with kind-hearted Aden is over. A cannon sounds.

The Career steps over the body. Aden gave his life for me? Or one of the other female tributes? I don't know, but in the short time I knew Aden, I found him one of the most compassionate humans I'd ever met. But I need to warn the others. Even if they are not part of my alliance, they need to know before they suffer the same fate!

"Lash! Career heading your way!" The eerie light is barely enough to see by, but it is enough to see the Career start. Instead of coming back to finish me off, she decides to leap forward and use the element of surprise upon the gathered group.

It's a full-blown massacre in my eyes. Two girl slips on mutt blood, but manages to stab Lash on the way down. He makes to smash her head in with a boot, but she flicks her head away. Lash is unbalanced, so she takes the moment to jump up. She slashes again, but Lash blocks with his spear. From here, I can see her grimace. She withdraws the knife and feints up. Lash's spear follows her move, but at the last second, she cuts below.

Lash screams. An inhuman scream. Like the doors of hell being opened and all the hellish creatures being let loose. I can't watch any more. I clamp my hands over my ears and clench my eyes shut. But even that can't mask the sound of the cannon. It goes twice, but I don't look to see who the second casualty was.

In just a few short minutes, the two people who I trusted most in this arena are gone forever. This time I can't stop. Sobs wrack my body and tears stream from my raw eyes.

A hand touches my shoulder. I don't bother to brush it away, but I look at the owner. I want to see my killer before I die.

Three people stand there. The Ten boy, and the Ten and Eleven girls. Ten Boy has his hand resting on my shoulder. "Come with us."

**The Fallen:**

**Aden Hanran,** District Eight [Cause of death: Stabbed in chest – _Priya Pendus_]

**Lash Frist**, District Seven [Cause of death: Stabbed in stomach – _Priya Pendus_]

**Priya Pendus**, District Two [Cause of death: Head smashed by rock – _Natalie Dismal_]


	33. Anger, Fear, Despair

**Hallo Freunde!**

**Delays, I know. WiFi cut out. Realised half this chapter was on another computer, several miles away. I sorted it out, don't worry. **

**Anways, this chappie is finally here, and I hope you likey! :' D**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Mylo Kingfisher, Head Gamemaker**

I don't know whether to punch the air or punch someone's face. Eight left. Two mutts down. Pathetic rebel leader and her little male friend.

Eight tributes; two days. I do the maths. So in just over 48 hours, sixteen dead tributes. I consult the list placed in front of me.

Charms Penlum, District One

Kyle 'Animal' Lanyer, District Three

Bronte Pratt, District Six

Coraline Rige, District Seven

Emilia Jatos, Distrcit Nine

Stag Browning, District Ten

Natalie Dismal, District Ten

Jaysper Pavane Grey, District Eleven

What is wrong with this list? There are no Careers. All of these people seem to have a degree of morality. Except Kyle maybe.

This is not how I planned it.

I'm going to tone it down a bit. I don't want to break the record for the shortest Hunger Games ever.

**Emilia Jatos, District Nine**

My clothes dried hours ago, but I still can't seem to stop shivering. Rocks placed in the middle of the lake have saved my life. It's dark but I can see the morning starting to swell. It's going to be a hot day. I haven't slept at all and all my concentration is on staying attached to this rock.

There was a scuffle between the mutts last night and two of them peeled off to the west. Three remained, and still do by the looks of things. Why won't they get bored? Oh yes, I forgot. Their brains are programmed not to give up. At least I have food and a good position.

Rays of light caress the water and the sun makes its automated appearance. As I look closely at the water, I realise there is something down there.

Oh God, please don't let them send a water mutt to finish me off. But the creature does not look suited to water. Slowly, it's form sharpens and I realise what it is.

I scream. The mutts on the shore spring up and howl across the water. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and draw the sign of the cross.

I don't need to see more; that small glimpse was enough. A human shape. Bloated and mottled. Eyelids and lips chewed away. A tribute. But I don't know which one. Or how long that... corpse has been down below me.

A huge shadow blocks out the sun and I look up to see a hovercraft. So soon. I try to become part of the rocks, but I think their only intention is to rid the arena of this grotesque... thing.

Averting my eyes, I can see something being hauled out of the water. Before long, the hovercraft flies off.

I let out breath and realise I've been holding it all that time.

**Bronte Pratt, District Six**

Since the avalanche, I've been making sure I am as far away from life as possible. By my count, there are around eight, nine, ten of us left and I think I could have a stab at victor. Of course, I would have to emerge from hiding at some point, but I'll leave that for later.

I have a pack – a small one at that, but still a pack. I have food and I can easily purify water. I keep a knife by my side at all times, but I'm not sure if I could use it if the need arises.

Do I even want to go home? The thought hits me suddenly, as I bite into a cracker.

Days full of nothing but pretending and deceit. Trying to kid people into thinking I like them. All the 'Victor' fuss would die down after a while and the lifestyle would scarcely change. I barely even see my Dad. Would that change, seeing as I've been so close to death? I doubt it. It would be the same. Do I really want that?

After all I've already seen here, it might change my attitude. Maybe I could make some new friends – true friends. Value life.

But somehow I know. It would take a miracle to win these Games. Sure, great tactics, but I have no idea who is left. I know that most of the Careers are dead, but what about Two girl? Could I fight her, and win for that matter?

I know what the answer is. And I don't like it.


	34. Stalked by Another

**Hurrhurrhurr, Oi'm goin' to Oireland tomorro' C:**

**Translation: I'm going to Ireland tomorrow for two weeks, but I will still have access to a computer. Ie. I can still PM, update (MAYBE!?) just not as regually. Ya know, it's a holiday rite? OuO**

**Hope you like this chapter - I especially like the two last POVs. Natalie is more of a 'thinking about how this shiz is gonna end'.**

**Oh and I kinda cocked up the order. Sorry. I wanted some loner perspective as well.**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Natalie Dismal, District Ten**

Five days in. Three days since the avalanche. Bravo. New high score.

Stag Browning is smarter than I gave him credit for. I could have stared for ages at that force field around the mountain, maybe even daring to touch it. But I realised now that it would have been so easy for myself to be crept up on and killed. It was a supreme piece of engineering really. Would have been fascinating to explore. Of course, if I didn't already have my throat cut.

Our little alliance was falling to pieces before the avalanche. Then we found the other group fighting against those... mutts. Sadly, the last Career joined the fight and two of them went down. I killed the Career afterwards. She deserved it. Couldn't even have the decency to get her knife out of the body properly.

At the end of the fight, we had a spontaneous group decision: the Seven girl, Cora, was lost and devastated. She'd die on her own in the arena. So we agreed to take her under our wing. She seems to have acted a bit like glue, keeping us together, when even I thought we couldn't. I'm not going to lie though – we're going to have to split up at some point, even if the tension is defused a little for now.

Last night I heard Cora crying. I couldn't sleep, because I generally can't, but I could hear the sound of someone trying to mask their sobs. She must have got pretty attached to the two who died. Aden and... Lash, was it? We're in the last eight now. I wonder who will win. I make a quick tally in my head. Our alliance plus loners; One girl, Three boy and Six girl. Oh and Nine girl.

Since the Games started, I have realised I've seen very few tributes. The loners seemed to disappear off the face of the earth and pretty much all the Careers died in another part of the arena. The only way I knew about some of the deaths, was by scrutinising the hologram which plays in the sky at night.

If our alliance were to split, who would kill who? Would one of the loners step into our fight, or would we have to turn on each other? Could I stab one of these three people who have had each other's – and my – back for the time in the arena? Could I watch the life drain out of them and watch their eyes go glassy?

The answer is no. I wonder who will finish me off. Probably either a loner or Jaysper. I can virtually taste the hostility rising from her like a wild animal. I should step gently there. Any wrong action could cause her to flip out. Then there would be one less person to contend with.

No one has to try to pretend: we all want to go home but we're unsure of killing someone to get there.

**Kyle 'Animal' Lanyer, District Three**

I'm disappointed more than anything. Only one girl died in the avalanche. Come on. A full scale avalanche and one casualty! They might as well have not bothered to trigger it.

There are so few tributes left now that it's quite hard to find them. But I've been tracking One girl for days. It's not like she's hard to follow. She steps in mud or sand or soil. Doesn't even bother to remove the footprint. She sounds like an elephant walking; her footsteps ring out like a bell with a sign that says, 'Hi, my name is Charms and I would like you to come and kill me.' Really.

I'm not going to make my move yet though. She moves around, but her routine is fairly regular. Wake up, get a drink, eat some nuts from her pack and then she either moves to another place during the day, or she hides.

I was there when she found the nuts. A small squeal of joy ("Come and stalk me!") and she started shovelling the nuts into her mouth. I almost ran out to stop her – they could be poisonous and I would be loosing my game, but I stopped myself. A nice clean kill, and I could move on to someone else.

Sadly, it turns out they weren't poisonous. Shame. But she filled her backpack up to the top, so she won't be short of food for a while. I'm still going to follow her, but I'm not sure when to make my move. A day? Maybe even less than that. I'll wait until she goes to fill her water. She usually leaves her pack where ever she camps. Another sign of her ignorance.

I'll be waiting for her. Ready for when she returns.

**Charms Penlum, District One**

He thinks I'm stupid. A lamb to the slaughter. Thinks he's so clever. What he doesn't know is that I can see him out of the corner of my eye. Hey peripheral vision, how are you? It creeps me out, being stalked but he hasn't made any kind of move to suggest that he knows I know he is there. Wow. Confusing.

I act the part. Leaving footprints deliberately and almost stamping when I walk. I'm not afraid to defend myself from another tribute who finds me, but I know how much it annoys the Stalker. That's my little name for him.

When he attacks, and boy, he will, I'll be ready. I can almost see what he is going to do. Wait until I go to the toilet or fetch water or something, and then he'll ambush me.

I may not be willing to kill, but I sure know how to stun.


	35. The Author's Tale Stand Alone

**Clowah, the Author, England**

Heya! I've missed you guys and all the people in my story! Hope you've been alright while I've been gone. A big shout out to Obviously Entei, who I can't reply to, but I just want to say thanks for the idea for the building blocks of this chapter ;)

So who's left in the arena? Oh yes, eight people. No Careers left - ooooh. Leave me a review saying who you want to win! And who knows... I might make a poll!

**News**

Bummer, I forgot to tell you guys. I'm going camping in two days AND THERE WILL BE NO INTERNET ACCESS. *Bursts into wretched sobs* So this camping holiday is going to be for two more weeks and I wish there was more time between holidays, but the summer hols are short and I want to make the most of them ;)

That's all I guess, but keep on waiting, and have a good holiday, if you're still on it! The next bit is about my trip to good ole Ireland; a few diary extracts (Good ones only!) c:

PS. If you're a stalker you won't get very far. I have edited this extracts accordingly *wink wink*

**Ireland**

Friday 9th August

By way of obtaining our culture this holiday, we decided to visit a field halfway across the country. So okay, we couldn't find the freaking cat stone, so called meeting point of five kingdoms, but we got a nice trek. If you ignore the stings and the mud. Maybe it wasn't worth the hike to the property owner's farm, where as we waited by his stately homed door, I was convinced that he was fetching his gun. Even more so when we were greeted by his over-friendly, may-have-rabies dog. Ok fine. He was a nice guy. And it was a nice dog. But that's not the point I'm trying to stress.

Saturday 10th August

Today was not a day for adventure. The computer featured frequently in this description. But still, we managed to drag ourselves out of the house and to the nearest inhabitable town. Oh boy, the 'Happy Pear Café', your cookies are FREAKING HUGE. And your 'coconut water' tastes like diluted shampoo. But no matter. There is nothing else of importance that needs to be written down. But seriously though, the cookie was bigger than my hand span.

Monday 12th August

Off to our proper culture fix. Newgrange, a virtual Stonehenge, except it's in Ireland and it's under a hill. Well, a man-made hill. Inside the hill/mound/burial chamber was very fascinating but also greatly claustrophobic, and the charming tour guide switched the lights off for us. Bearing in mind that this is inside a hill. Did I mention how much I enjoy being in a pitch black cave, 500,000,000,000,000,000 years old, and under 32,000 tonnes of rock/earth in a structure constructed by illiterate beings? No? Thought as much. Guess which part I was lying about.

Wednesday 14th August

Find me a day on this holiday where I haven't got up late. Or gone on the computer. Oops. So we went to the edge of the large span of ground, called by some as 'the beach'. If you count seven cars in the car park full, then yes, the beach was full. Sadly, I didn't make the plunge. The water looked cold. And suspiciously jellyfish-like. I got sand in my camera (way to go!) and I was unfortunately greased up like chips waiting to be fried. Is it just me, or does anyone else despise sun cream? Oh okay. Just me.

Friday 16th August

So it's back to the Green And Pleasant Land, which may or may not have been pleasant, depending on your views of rain. Like just about everyone says at some point in their English lives, 'Typical English Weather.' The plane was quick. Like super quick. Thirty-five minutes. Woah. We got home early evening with just enough time to get upstairs before passing out in my bed.

**Last Words**

So! Hope you enjoyed that! I have missed out a good chunk of diary, but really, some of it was pretty boring. More like a, 'Lets List Everything We Did Without Any Imagination Or Cynical Slash Jovial Vocabulary.' I'm sorry, but I don't even know where I get these words from. It's like they pop into my brain at exactly the right time.

Anyway, guilt over for another five days or so. I promise I will write another chapter AS SOON AS HUMANELY POSSIBLE, but sadly not before I go :c

Ily!

*In the Blink of an Eye


	36. The Recoil of the Rifle

**Hey, it's me again!**

**I'm back at school and um... it's kind of not awesome... But anyway! Chapter! Sorry for the gap. It's been hard adjusting to normal life! Thank you Maddie, for your reviews, and I had a great camping holiday c:**

**I hope this chapter is technically accurate, but hey, it's my Hunger Games and if 'vintage rifles' don't exist in Panem, they should. **

**Happy Reading and Back to School!**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Penny Delusion, Capitol Citizen**

Dad is sponsoring a tribute. Again. Last year he squandered all our emergency savings on a long-handled sabre for a Career who died before the hour was up. We've only just managed to build up the savings again. But if Dad acts like Dad, it will be gone by the end of the day. No amount of gentle persuading by Mum can deter him.

Dad is crushed that the Careers are all out. I'm crushed that anyone is all out. But what really hits home is that just about all the tributes left in the arena are decent human beings with moral capacity. Oh, but Dad chose the only one who doesn't fit that description.

Can you guess? I'll give you a clue. Predator. Yes, you got it. Kyle Lanyer, aptly nicknamed 'Animal'. I think I heard Dad mention something about a vintage rifle. I know that's bad news. I think of the poor prey, the seemingly innocent Charms. Such a pretty name. So helpless.

**Dusk Delusion, Capitol Citizen**

"Cheers, Tatê," I add as I walk out of the building. Tatê acknowledges me with a wave of the hand. He's in a good mood now. I know money gets him cheerful. Well, it should, seeing as I just gave him a small fortune. Dawn won't be happy. But if the guy wins the Games, then I will feel like I've accomplished something right.

A vintage rifle: preserved since before the Dark Days. Infinitely expensive, and even more so to transport to the arena. A sight for perfect accuracy and a kick worthy of any modern gun. The old-fashioned bullets and the sturdy feel of the butt on your shoulder is enough for me to pay any price.

Let's just hope the guy actually knows how to use it. He looks like a Career and acts like one, if a little more sly and cunning. His District is gadgets, so therefore he'll have technical expertise. A perfect match. I'm hoping that with my gift, the boy will be able to take out that pitiful Charms. Maybe he'll even keep that flute on a string to remember his victims. Hey, maybe he can take out everyone with it.

I'm thinking now. If only I could send him a typed up strategy. But I have no money left to spend. Shoot someone in one of the alliances from a distance, wait for them to find out where the shot came from, and while they're distracted, take the rest of them out. If need be, the rifle can be used as a club at close quarters. Perfect!

I'm so lost in my thoughts, I walk head on into a lamppost. A cobalt blue lady gives me a strange look as she walks by. I rub my head and carry on, taking a little more care with my street navigation.

**Kyle "Animal" Lanyer, District Three**

One Girl is asleep and I watch from a distance. She's actually quite pretty, I think. But let's not stray down that road. Wouldn't want to form attachments to my victims.

Suddenly, a white sheet billows out of nowhere. I curse silently. What if it makes her wake up? Then where would I be? The parachute luckily lands gently onto the neighbouring boulder. Dusts puffs up around it and I notice the resemblance to an explosion and stifle a giggle.

The gift is big. My grin widens. Daintily, I prise open the container and almost gasp with joy. A rifle! Not even a modern one. A pricey, accurate and very high quality vintage rifle! I stroke the barrel, crooning to it. Someone in the Capitol must be on the save wavelength as me. Perfect. I could take One out from here, and she wouldn't know a thing.

The only teensy-weensy problem is that it's going to make noise loading. As quietly as can be, I crack open the gun. Thank goodness for History in school. I wouldn't have a clue how to work this if I hadn't seen the old footage before Panem. The gun is loaded. I want to cry with joy but I know my every move could cause the girl 400 meters away to wake.

And I wouldn't want that.

I place the butt on my shoulder, marvelling at the weight and shape. I line up One's figure with the sights. A bit wobbly, but I'm confident. She's lined up. I stop breathing. Increase the pressure on the trigger. Bit by little bit. Surely it must have shot by now?

BANG.

The recoil jerks me off my perch. One thing which I didn't anticipate. There's smoke. Is there supposed to be smoke? I waft it away and squint though the early morning mist.

Did I hit her?


	37. I Spy With My Little Eye

**Heya! It's me again, and I'm settled into normal routine again! That means a more regular updates hopefully! Thank you all for your reviews, it means a lot to me c:**

**Hope you're still enjoying the story, and thank you for those who have already voted in my Victor Poll - if you haven't, check it out on my profile**

**Tata~**

***In the Blink of an Eye**

* * *

**Charms Penlum, District One**

I'm ripped out of my nightmare by a deafening blast. I scream so loud, it's silent. Run away. Run, run, run. It's the only thing you're good for.

My pack is already on my shoulder. The air is smoky, cloudy. Makes it hard to see. Pounding through the dawn. A ray of false light shows me where the rocks are, but no more.

I have to get away.

My legs are screaming. My eyes are watering. My throat is contracted. Air is forcing itself out of my windpipe, making a sound like wind in the trees back home.

There's no doubt about it. Kyle. Someone, or something, has given him the power of a bomb. Or a gun. It's not fair! A huge advantage.

How much ground have I covered? Lots. He'll have a tough time following me in this light. Just keep on running. Until you reach the barrier. Then stop to think. Use your brain for once. How to outwit a natural psychopath.

**Kyle 'Animal' Lanyer, District Three**

"NOOO!" I roar.

It missed. The damn bullet missed. And the girl, showing a speed never revealed to me before, has flitted away. She trumped me. She holds the winning card. She knew all along, I realise.

But I still have the gun.

**Jaysper Pavane Grey, District Eleven**

"Are you joking?" I ask, completely serious.

Stag looks at me with his huge dark eyes. "No? Why would I possibly be joking? A game is great. It helps keep our minds distracted while we have nothing else to do. And if you really want, you can be the lookout."

"Ok, fine. But the Gamemakers will probably be edging their fingers towards the earthquake button at this very moment."

Natalie rolls her eyes. Great. All we need. A stroppy twelve year old, added to the broil of scared and over-optimistic teens.

"Um... Hey, Cora, you pick a game." Stag puts his hand over Cora's and squeezes.

Cora's eyes are permanently wet. I guess she's seen more than an average twelve year old would, but you wouldn't think she'd get so attached to a mentally unstable wreck of a boy. But I admire her for putting a brave face on. Talking and eating as if tears weren't leaking from her eyes. "I-Spy? It's the only one I know."

"I'll start!" I call, wanting desperately to cheer Cora up. And lift the heavy atmosphere that hangs over us. "I-Spy, with my little eye, something beginning with... B, U, F, F."

"That's hard, though, Jaysper," Cora says, but the distraction is working already. Her eyes seem brighter and are scanning the arena around us. "Is it close to us?"

I nod, and look surreptitiously towards the mountain.

Cora wrinkles her face in concentration. "Bad, Ugly Force Field?" I laugh.

"Almost – just one word – the 'b' word. Think about how tall it looks."

Cora cries out, "big! Big, ugly force field!" We all stand up to give her a clapping ovation. Cora looks happier.

"I'll go," says Stag. He pans around us, looking for I-Spy material. He turns back to the centre. "I-Spy, with my huge eye," at this, he stretches his eye comically open with his fingers, "something beginning with B, D."

For the next four minutes or so, we bombard him with B, D words, before he gives into our cries of 'clue, clue!' "Okay, the B word is describing the D word, and the D word is something happy."

It takes us a few more minutes to guess 'beautiful daylight'. It's Natalie's turn and we wait expectantly for her to find something. When she turns back to look at us, her face is grave. "I-Spy with my little eye, something beginning with P." Before we can guess, she butts in. "Person, heading this way."

**Emilia Jatos, District Nine**

Hunger is starting to kick in. The food ran out two days ago. Water is not enough. There is nothing within reach of my rocky island, and a quick dive yesterday showed that there were no fish around either. Fresh water is not enough to keep a body alive. It needs nutrition. Which basically means I need to get to shore. There might be plants, or fruit, or I might find another pack.

The mutts are still there. Four of the ungodly creatures. I call them a very unholy word. They cock their ears at my sound and glance towards me. From here, I can feel their eyes boring into me. Marbles. White marbles.

I need to formulate a plan. And quickly. I won't be able to make the swim and win the evident fight on low fuel. I debate over possible plans. All involve a diversion. I don't have one.

I can actually see the camera imbedded in the rock. Maybe those girls back home will be sitting and giggling on the sofa, watching me torment over plans to evade the creatures. Or maybe they'll be sitting stock still, staring rigidly at the screen, feeling guilty for every push, pull and name they called me. Or maybe they don't even watch the Games. What do I care?

I'm still alive now, which must mean God wants me alive. Surely he could tip the scales in my favour?

The bible charm has fallen off my charm bracelet somewhere, so I touch the cross instead.


End file.
